


True Directions

by larry_hiatus



Category: Harry Styles - Fandom, Larry Stylinson - Fandom, Louis Tomlinson - Fandom, One Direction (Band), liam payne - Fandom, niall horan - Fandom, zayn malik - Fandom
Genre: 16-Year-Old Harry Styles, 16-Year-Old Liam Payne, 16-Year-Old Louis Tomlinson, 16-Year-Old Niall Horan, 16-Year-Old Zayn Malik, Adolescent Sexuality, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, British Harry Styles, British Liam Payne, British Louis Tomlinson, British Zayn Malik, Cigarettes, Coming of Age, Consensual Underage Sex, Cuddling & Snuggling, Everyone Is Gay, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Internalized Homophobia, Irish Niall Horan, Kissing, LGBTQ, Larry Stylinson Is Real, M/M, Reference of a past death, Sexuality, Smoking, Smut, Summer Camp, Teen Crush, Teen Romance, Teenage Drama, Teenagers, Therapy, Underage Drinking, Underage Sex, Underage Smoking, conversion therapy, larry stylinson - Freeform, ziam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-16 00:47:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 15
Words: 34,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28947645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/larry_hiatus/pseuds/larry_hiatus
Summary: They were going away. It was Liam’s choice to go to camp in attempts to rid himself of the terribly immoral lifestyle he’d accidentally entered into. Niall chose the journey for a different reason, unsure of his beliefs, but wanting to see if it was really worth it to become “normal.” Zayn reluctantly was there for the umpteenth time, unsure as to why his parents continued to send him away when it was clearly not going to change anything. Harry’s parents sent him to camp too, although the confused boy didn’t know how he felt about their decision. Louis was different from all of them. He didn’t want to change, but he knew he had to. There wasn’t a choice.Five boys: Harry, Louis, Zayn, Niall, Liam. Three months at a rehabilitation camp. One goal: to become heterosexual.But is it that easy? Can a dozen weeks at an “ex-gay” camp and some intensive therapy truly change your sexuality? These lads thrown together at the young age of sixteen, each with their own story, might just find the answer.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Zayn Malik/Liam Payne, Zayn Malik/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 18





	1. Prologue and Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s note: This story contains hate speech and negative beliefs about homosexuality. I, as the author, am a member of the LGBT community and am completely supportive of those who are also members. My views do not reflect those in this story.
> 
> This was originally a co-written fic with my friend Nóra. Her chapters are included as well.

Prologue

“You know we’re only doing this because we love you, right?” Harry’s mum Anne kissed him hard on the forehead before pulling back and sniffling. Her eyes were rimmed with tears, emotion, as she struggled to let her baby go. Her husband Robin, Harry’s step father, stood beside her, keeping a firm grip on her shoulder. His face was expressionless, with his mouth, eyes, and forehead pinched into several straight lines. Anne wrapped Harry in a hug again.

“I know,” Harry said, although he actually wasn’t quite sure. Was this how all parents who loved their children acted when they found out their kid was different? Did they just send them away and hope that when they came back they weren’t broken anymore?

“And you can call me at anytime. You have your cell phone?”

“Mhmm,” Harry replied, trying to escape from his mother’s death grasp. He didn’t understand why she was so reluctant to let him go. She could stop this whole thing if she wanted and take him back home right now, and they could forget that anyone had ever suggested that he go away.

“I love you,” she said, finally releasing her son. “We’ll see you in a few weeks.”

“I love you, too.” Harry gave his mum a small wave before Robin dragged his sobbing wife away.

Harry turned and took a deep breath before he headed towards the cabin labeled “Office.” He knocked lightly when he reached the door, and then slowly pushed it open. He was met by an older looking woman, maybe in her mid fifties, who sat busily typing away at a computer. Her hair was pulled into a tight bun and her glasses sat on the bridge of her nose.

“Can I help you?” she asked, glancing up at Harry.

“Um, yes. I’m Harry Styles?” The woman opened a drawer and flipped through various folders.

“Ah, okay. Harry Styles.” She handed him a bright blue folder with his name, age, and hometown printed on the front. “This contains all the information that you will need while you are staying with us. There’s a daily schedule, a list of rules, a lunch menu, and so on. There’s also a workbook that you will sometimes use during therapy. Do you have any questions so far?”

“Um…” Harry had a hundred questions, most of which would probably be answered in the packet clutched in his trembling hands. He decided not to ask any of them just yet.

“Okay…” the woman said when Harry didn’t reply. “If you’ll step through that hallway, Lisa will administer the bag search.”

“Bag search?” Harry questioned. He didn’t know they would be going through his things.

“In your folder you will find a list of items that are prohibited at our facility. Lisa will go through your bags and remove any of these items,” the woman explained. She stood and walked over to a second door, opening it for the curly-haired boy. “It’ll be okay,” she said smiling, actually looking sympathetic for the first time since Harry had stepped into the office. “It’s everyone’s first day. It’s okay to be nervous.”

Harry gave her a small smile and a nod before stepping into a hallway where several other boys around his age were standing in a line. At the front, a dark haired boy was having his bags checked. Harry set his own bags down and pulled out the list of things that they would be checking for. Cigarettes, lighters, pornography, weapons, drugs or drug paraphernalia of any kind, mp3 players, cell phones… Harry groaned. Why were they taking his cell phone? He had promised his mum that he would call her every day.  
He racked his brain trying to think of what he had that could be taken away. He had a bottle of ibuprofen in case he got a headache. That would probably be removed. His razor could be considered a weapon, but did they really expect all of the boys to sport a beard while they were here?

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” Harry glanced up to see the dark-haired boy shouting at the woman, who Harry assumed was Lisa.  
“I’m sorry, Mr. Malik, but cigarettes are prohibited, as is profound language.”

“Jesus Christ,” Harry heard the boy mumble. Wow, Harry thought to himself. They really aren’t messing around. He didn’t understand what the huge fuss was. It wasn’t like they were a group of drug addicts or mental cases. They were just regular boys… weren’t they?

When it was his turn, Harry nervously stepped up to the woman whose name tag read “Hello, I’m Lisa!” She smiled at him as he handed her his backpack and suitcase. She rummaged through them at a surprisingly quick rate before returning them to Harry. She put his taken items in a bag labeled “Styles.” Harry tried to get a peak of the items he would be missing, but she quickly waved him away to follow the other boys outside where a man was standing a bit away with a bullhorn.

Harry couldn’t believe how many kids were there. He hadn’t paid much attention to the brochure, so he really didn’t know what to expect, but there had to be at least 50 other boys standing around the large field.

“Please make your way to the rooms list posted on the bulletin board next to me! Once you find your room, you may get settled in!” the man shouted. Harry found himself being pushed and shoved as he tried to follow the directions. He eventually made it to the front, noting that he was in cabin 5, before he was thrusted aside by some older looking boys. He hurried towards the cabins, not wanting to get in anyone’s way again. He found the one that he was supposed to be in and slowly opened the creaking door.

The cabin was fairly small, with two sets of bunk beds and one single bed. There were two dressers, several end tables, and a small desk with a few chairs. Harry quickly realized that he was not the first one to enter the room. In fact, it appeared that he was one of the last.

The first boy that caught his eye was the grumpy dark-haired lad from before, whom the woman had called “Mr. Malik.” He was digging through an open suitcase placed on one of the bunks and mumbling something about his “fucking lighter.” Another boy with brown hair quickly told him that they weren’t supposed to swear.  
“It’s in the rules, Zayn. It says right here.”

“Pff. You think I care about these fucking rules?” He swiped the piece of paper from the other lad, who jumped back as the sheet was being shaken in front of his face. “Here is what I think of these rules, Liam.” The one called Zayn proceeded to shred the list into a dozen pieces before tossing them to the ground, much to Liam’s horror. He then produced a cigarette from his pocket and headed out the back before the other boy could protest.

“Let him go,” a blonde boy said from where he was unloading a duffel bag into a drawer. He looked up to see Harry who was still standing apprehensively at the door. “Our last bunk mate is here!” he announced. He stood and ran to the newest member of their room and pulled him into a very sudden hug, causing Harry to drop his bag in surprise. “I’m Niall,” the Irish boy said, stepping away. “That’s Liam. And the one who just left is Zayn. Though I’m betting he gets kicked out by next week. And you are?”

Harry cleared his throat. “I’m Harry.” He peeked around the corner in search of the fifth occupant of the room, but he found no one.

“Welcome, Harry!” Niall said cheerfully, hugging the boy once more.

“Niall,” Liam groaned. “We’re not supposed to make physical contact.”

“Aye, lighten up, man. It’ll be alright…Harry, you can take that bunk,” Niall said, pointing to a bottom of two bunk beds in the corner. Harry smiled gratefully before sitting down and pulling out the daily schedule. It seemed like there was an activity planned for every second that they would be there. There were meals, chores, private therapy sessions with a counselor, assemblies, free time, group therapies… Harry’s head was spinning as he flipped to the list of rules. There was so much to remember. He was sure he was going to slip up and forget something.

“Oh, there you are, Louis.” Harry looked up from his papers to see Niall slapping the back of a shorter boy who had just come in. Harry could already tell that he was definitely not like the others. He seemed relaxed and comfortable to be here, as if he had been living at the camp his whole life. His feathered locks were swept to one side in a playful manner, making Harry think that he didn’t take things too seriously. He wore tight red jeans that clung to his legs that went on forever, and his striped shirt held back muscles that Harry tried not to stare at. There were suspenders dangling next to his legs and sunglasses were tucked in the front of his shirt.

“Yeah, I was just checking out the other cabins to make sure we got the best,” he said grinning in a way that caused Harry’s heart to skip a beat. His expression changed when he saw the newest boy. “Hello, there,” he said, making his way towards him. Harry gulped as the boy’s blue eyes pierced through his own. He plopped down on Harry’s bed, sitting surprisingly close to the curly-haired lad. “I’m Louis,” he spoke evenly. God, he was even more beautiful up close. And his voice…

“That’s Harry,” Niall answered for the speechless boy. Louis smiled widely, showing his perfectly straight teeth.

“We should probably get going,” Liam spoke before Harry could study Louis any further. “There’s an assembly in 10 minutes, and we don’t want to be late.” Niall rolled his eyes.

“We won’t be late,” he insisted as he was reluctantly rushed out the door. Louis turned to Harry before standing in front of him.

“So,” he said, extending his hand warmly to help him up. “Ready to become straight?”

Chapter 1  
Written by Nora

“Ready to become straight?” Louis chanted, trying to sound as confident as he could, looking into green eyes that surely saw through him.

Harry gave him a quick nod in reply, leading the way out of their room, into the field where a few tables were awaiting their arrival. “So, Louis. How come you’re here?” Harry smiled at him, dimples forming on his cheeks.

“I, uh…I’ve been told about the camp, so I figured why not.” Louis smiled back at the curly-haired boy, that typical toothy smile of his which surely reassured anyone. Louis had that smile planned and learned. It was functioning. Everyone thought it was genuine and really honest, even though it was a fake smile to hide every type of problem he was facing.

“And how come you’re here?” Louis turned the question to Harry who furrowed his eyebrows for a brief moment, before relaxing again.

“I…I was sent here.”

“Oh…” Louis mumbled a reply, glancing down his shoes.

“Hey, hurry up, guys. We shouldn’t be late for our first assembly.” Liam’s nervous voice broke the awkward tension that started to build between the two boys.

“Chill, Liam. We’re already here.” Niall patted the anxious boy’s shoulder, leading him to a table. “Guess this is ours then.” He pointed to the number plate on it. Number 5, just like their own room.

Louis smiled and followed the two boys, along with Harry to the table. He automatically sat down next to Harry, taking in his features slowly. He had already seen those full lips, the wild mop of curly hair, the milky skin…he observed them when he first saw the green-eyed boy, smiling at him sheepishly. Harry was gorgeous. Simply, but definitely gorgeous. And Louis knew that there was no way that these thoughts would help him. He shook his head visibly, earning a weird look from Liam.

Liam was so much more different than the others. Louis wasn’t sure if he genuinely liked the boy or not. He was always anxious about something. Always repeating another rule that Louis didn’t even know that existed. And he only stayed with Liam in the room for a brief ten minutes. His anxiety was spreading, and it got to Louis too. All of his insecurities about the whole camp boiled up, and he had to pay attention to every gesture, every move he made just to keep calm.

“Nervous?” Harry smiled at him from his right, glancing at the members of the camp’s staff.

“A bit…” Louis confessed, grinning back at his new-found friend with more fondness than necessary. He immediately glanced back at the men and women who were gathered around the main table.

“Fuck it all. Here’s the sad part of this whole thing,” Zayn muttered, startling all of them.

“Where did you appear from, mate?” Niall chuckled kindly, making room for the Pakistani boy between him and Liam.

“Cigarette break.”

“You know that it’s prohibited to smoke here, right?” Liam mumbled shyly, glancing into the chocolate eyes of the bad boy.

“Yeah, babe, I know. It’s the best part of it.” Zayn winked shamelessly, making Liam blush and fixate his gaze on the staff. “He’s so cute” Zayn laughed darkly, earning a smirk from Harry.

“Attention, everyone,” a woman called out. “My name is Amanda, and I’ll be one of your helpers during your stay at our camp. Now, let’s review the rules and your schedules.”  
She started explaining facts, easy facts that Louis had already read in the brochures. They were going to stay together with boys of their age, working in a group to come to terms with their ‘problems’. They were going to work to find the source of their problem and maybe to even fix it. They were in this together. They were going to find what they were looking for.

Louis rolled his eyes at the clichés. He didn’t know what to think anymore. Everything sounded less terrifying in the brochure. Group therapy hadn’t sounded scary at all. It did now when he glanced at the curly-haired boy next to him. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to talk about something this profound and secretive in front of four other boys. Especially the curly-haired one, Harry, who was…making him feel weird. His eyes were always glistening cheekily. Louis felt a blush creep up his spine, spreading across his cheeks.  
No, no, no. Wrong thoughts. Focus, Louis, he ordered himself, looking straight at Amanda who was still talking about dos and don’ts in the camp. She was pretty nice, even though she was shouting all kinds of regulations to respect. She wasn’t actually frightening.

No showers together was one of the rules. Louis smirked a bit. It’s not like they were going to shower together. There were a bunch of 13-year-olds too. They were lucky if they understood half of the problems they were facing. No sneaking into other rooms. They were going to force the age groups together. Louis sighed in relief. At least he wasn’t going to be there when some little kid freaked out about their differences.

But…who was he, anyway, to judge the little ones? He was 16, for god’s sake. He wasn’t sure of…anything, actually. Did he even want to change? All he knew was that he was willing to come and see.

Louis liked boys. He always did. He never had a girl crush; his first real crush was a boy, when he was about 13. He had beautiful green eyes and a mischievous grin plastered across his face. He was rather similar to Harry… emerald eyes, dark hair, heart wrenching smile, even dimples. Harry was so obviously Louis’ type.

No, no, no. He shook his head again, trying to focus on what was said. There were going to tear holes into his personal life, trying to find what’s wrong with him. Or what’s right…yeah, whatever.

They were finally dismissed when Amanda stopped telling them about things that sounded so much scarier than the brochure’s description.

“That was…interesting,” Niall commented when they arrived at their cabin.

“This is going to be so much fun,” Harry muttered a reply sarcastically.

“But I don’t get it…what are we…we…it sounded so bad, didn’t it?” The Irish boy rolled onto the bed he claimed to be his. He chose the single bed. Louis nodded in approval. Niall was smart. He was getting the most intimate space. Now he regretted his decision to just throw his bags on one of the random bunks in the room. Maybe thinking would’ve helped.

He remembered that he was sharing the bed with Harry when the boy sat down on the bottom bunk, a confused smile plastered on his face.

“So, we get to share bunks, right?” Louis beamed at the curly-haired boy.

“Uh, I guess…is it okay if I take the bottom bunk?” Harry replied warily, still timid.

“Yeah, sure, mate. Don’t worry.” Louis winked at him confidently, but on the inside his head was bursting. Winking. Inappropriate winking. Why did he wink? There was no rule about winking in the camp, but that obviously wasn’t the proper way to approach the subject. Winking was almost equal to flirting. Louis sighed in disbelief. He wasn’t flirting, he wasn’t even…he didn’t. He couldn’t do stuff like that. What if Harry gets the wrong idea? He’d probably start hating him or something.

“What…?” Liam mumbled sheepishly at the agreement. “That…”

“That means that you’ll have to share with me then, love,” Zayn chuckled maliciously, watching Liam’s expression change in seconds.

“Oh…okay.” He forced a quick smile on his face, but he didn’t fool anyone. He wasn’t able to prove a point.

Louis smiled at the little exchange, hopping on top of his bunk in experiment. It was nothing like his bed at home. It was cold and stiff and unknown. No familiar scent of his home, no huge pillow.

They didn’t get too much time to get accommodated; they had to go to dinner too early. Niall and Harry watched bemusedly as Zayn snatched another cigarette out of his endless hiding spots. He was a pro at hiding things.

“Zayn, mate, you’re seriously troubled,” Niall laughed lightly, earning a vicious smile from the raven-haired boy.

“No, Niall, I’m…addicted.” He laughed at the last word, even though it sounded tempting, even dangerous. Louis was already sure that this evil side of Zayn was not as true as it seemed to be. What are you hiding then? he thought to himself as they left the cabin together.


	2. Chapter 2

“So, what are we supposed to do now?” Harry asked after they entered their cabin following dinner. Lou shrugged.

“We could play a game,” Niall suggested. Zayn nodded, retrieving a deck of cards from his bag. He began shuffling.

“You guys have cash on you?” he asked, walking towards the center of the room.

“We’re not supposed to gamble!” Liam cried from his bed. Harry rolled his eyes slightly. Why was this kid always so worried about getting in trouble? What was the worst that could happen? They’d be sent home? Harry probably wouldn’t have minded that, considering it wasn’t his choice to be there in the first place.

“Okay, you,” Zayn said, pointing a daunting finger at the timid boy, “are getting really annoying, and it hasn’t even been a full day yet. There’s no way I’m spending all summer with this.” Liam blinked as the dark-haired boy rummaged through his bag of tricks once more and returned with a bottle of clear liquid. “Drink this,” he ordered, shoving the bottle at Liam, who quickly flinched away, wide-eyed, as if it was on fire.

“How the bloody hell…” Louis began, glancing at Harry. Harry shook his head as if to say ‘don’t ask.’

“We’ll play a drinking game. Never have I ever. Come on.” Zayn took the bottle in one hand and the protesting boy’s wrist in the other, attempting to drag him off the bed. Harry shrugged, as he and Louis took places on the floor.

“But I don’t drink!” Liam whined.

“You don’t have to drink if you don’t want to,” Niall insisted, sitting down next to Louis.

“Yeah,” Zayn said grinning. “And besides, it’s not like you’ve ever done anything where you would have to take a shot.” He winked, causing Liam to blush fiercely before reluctantly sitting with the others. “You can start, girly boy.”

“Um… never have I ever been to an ex-gay camp before this,” he said nervously. Zayn popped open the bottle and took a long swig.

“You have?” Harry asked. He prayed that whatever was supposed to happen at this camp would happen this time; he had a feeling that he wouldn’t be able to handle being sent off again.

“Yep,” Zayn said, smacking his mouth at the taste of alcohol. “This is my fourth time.”

“Your fourth? Jeez mate,” Niall commented. “Why?” Zayn grinned wickedly.

“They just can’t get me off the cock.” Beside Harry, Louis snorted, covering his mouth to hide his snickers. Harry bit back a grin, wondering what the other boy was thinking. “What about you all? Never been before?” The other three lads shook their heads.

“I didn’t even know these types of things existed until my parents threw a brochure at me last week. And now here I am,” Harry said dully. Zayn nodded.

“You mean… you were forced to come here?” Liam said in disbelief.

Zayn rolled his eyes, replying for Harry. “Uh, yeah, mate. You think anyone would choose to come to a hell hole like this?” 

Liam shrugged, slightly uncomfortable. I did,” he said softly. Zayn laughed aloud.

“Why the fuck would you want to be here? Do you know what places like this think about kids like us?” Liam met the other boy’s eyes weakly.

“Don’t worry, man,” Niall interrupted, scooting closer to Liam and throwing a friendly arm around his shoulders. “I chose to come here, too.”

“How come?” Harry asked, wondering if it was any of his business, but genuinely curious as to why someone would want to be here.

“Just wanted to see what it was like,” Niall replied casually.

“So… you’re not here to change?” Liam asked. Niall shrugged.

“I don’t know yet. I’m just sort of here to find myself, I guess.” The others nodded, seeming to understand.

“What about you, Louis?” Zayn asked. Harry turned to the boy next to him, who appeared startled and caught off guard.

“What about me, what?”

“You didn’t choose to come here, right?”

Harry watched as the smooth-haired lad’s eyes suddenly flashed in panic. He quickly covered it up, shaking his head furiously.

“Of course not,” he said laughing slightly. “Back to the game. Whose turn?” Harry squinted, trying to make eye contact with Lou. Why did he act so weird for a moment? Did the others notice too? Had Harry just imagined it? Louis caught the curly-headed boy staring at him and Lou flashed an innocent smile. Harry quickly turned away, wondering if he had seen something he shouldn’t have.

“You go, Harry,” Niall suggested, forcing Harry’s attention back to the game.

“And make it good,” Zayn added. Harry thought. He was never any good at this game. He couldn’t think of anything worth saying that he hadn’t done.

“Um… I’ve never gotten caught doing anything sexual. Is that a good one?” Niall swiped the bottle from Zayn and took a swig.

“Neither have I!” Liam announced proudly.

“You can’t get caught if you don’t do it, mate,” Zayn said cheekily, causing Liam to fold his arms and snarl in protest. Louis took the bottle next, and Harry’s stomach fluttered. He wondered what the boy had been caught doing and who it was with. How far had they gone? Imagining the boy with someone else caused Harry to grow green with envy, but he didn’t know why. He shook the feeling off, watching Zayn take two swigs from the bottle Louis had passed him.

“You? The king of sneaking around?” Niall asked in disbelief.

“It’s fun to get caught sometimes.” Zayn belched and took another gulp.

“Oh, brother,” Liam muttered. Harry chuckled. He wasn’t sure who this bad boy was trying to impress, but it definitely seemed like he was trying too hard.

“Okay my turn. I,” Zayn began smugly, “have never slept with a girl.”

“Never?” Harry asked, as Zayn handed him the bottle. He took a small shot, wincing as the alcohol burned his throat. He quickly passed it to Louis, not noticing if he took a shot, and Zayn shook his head.

“I was only with one girl,” Niall spoke. “It was awkward, and her boobs kept getting in the way.” Louis roared with laughter.

“I think you were doing it wrong, man!” Harry and Zayn began laughing too, clearly amused and already slightly tipsy. Liam shifted uncomfortably.

“So you lads have been with guys too, I’m assuming?” Zayn questioned once they calmed down. Harry forced his head to nod, but in reality, he wasn’t exactly sure. He had messed around with a few guys, but did that mean he had slept with them? He decided a simple yes would do and tried not to worry about specifics.

“Nope,” Liam said, shaking his head in response to Zayn’s question.

“Liam, man,” Louis said, slightly teasing. “What have you done?” Liam shrugged.

“I, uh... I kissed a boy once...”

“Who was he?” Zayn asked.

“W-What?” Liam stuttered. “What does that matter?”

“It just does. Was he a friend or a neighbor or a boy you liked…”

“A friend,” he mumbled. Harry could tell that Zayn was making the other boy uncomfortable, but he wasn’t sure exactly why.

“Did you like it?” Zayn continued. “Why didn’t you ask him out?”

“I don’t know…”

“Well when you get home, you should! Kiss him again or invite him to a movie and hold his hand or –”

“Stop it!” Liam burst out, knocking over the bottle that sat between him and Niall. Zayn jumped slightly, startled that the quiet boy had made a noise so loud. “I’m not kissing him again! Maybe you don’t take this whole thing seriously, Mr. ‘I like cock,’ but I do! When I go home, I will be straight, and I’ll never kiss a boy again, especially not him!” With that, he stood and headed for their back door. “And you really shouldn’t be drinking. You’re all going to get in trouble.” He stomped out the door, leaving the others in an awkward silence.

It was quickly broken by Zayn, whose childish giggles escaped his lips.

“Really, Zayn?” Niall growled in disbelief before running after Liam. Lou and Harry exchanged glances.

“Well,” Louis said, stretching. “I’d say the game’s over. I’m going to bed.” Harry watched as he stood, removing his shirt to reveal brilliantly toned arms and an equally firm stomach. Harry swallowed hard.

“Me too,” he announced as Lou began to climb the ladder to his bunk. God, even his back was beautiful. Zayn laughed again and shook his head.

“Pussies,” he muttered under his breath, finishing off the last of the alcohol.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written by Nora

Louis woke up before the others did. He was accustomed to sleeping with more people in a room; his sisters sneaked into his bed all the time – especially during a storm. He stretched out and climbed off of his bed, trying not to bother Harry while he did so.

Louis looked around in silence. Niall was still sleeping, silently inhaling and exhaling; he looked so calm, so blissful. Zayn was much messier on the top bunk of the other bed. His limbs were twisted and tangled in weird ways, but, somehow, he still managed to look like an angel. He looked peaceful once his poisonous mouth was shut.

“You’re awake.” The sudden sound startled Louis and made him jump a bit.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you…” Liam muttered from the lower bunk of the bed he shared with Zayn. “I’ve been awake for a while now, and I was getting excruciatingly bored.

“Well, good morning then, mate.” Louis smiled at the boy and sat down on the edge of his bed. “How’re you feeling?”

“Uh…Okay, I guess. Sorry for the theatrical run-off yesterday.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Liam.” Louis smiled at the anxious boy. “I think Zayn has way too huge of an attitude going on…”

“I should’ve been more sensible, though. I shouldn’t have engaged in his stupid game,” Liam murmured a reply, sitting up.

“Guys…” Harry muttered from his own bunk. “Shouldn’t we be going to breakfast? I don’t think we’d like to miss it…”

~

They didn’t get along. Well, they didn’t actually do anything, but Louis could sense the awkward glances, searching the ground for who knows what kind of help. Liam was obviously angry at Zayn, even though he tried his best to hide it. Zayn didn’t mention anything at breakfast, but that was probably the fault of his throbbing headache. Niall was on Liam’s side, giving Zayn a few pointed looks. And Harry…well, Harry was watching him. Louis didn’t like that. Harry kept watching him, expecting something. Louis knew Harry wasn’t stupid, he knew that simply dodging him, changing the subject wouldn’t work. So, he smiled widely, trying to regain some of the initial sympathy. Harry wasn’t bad; he wasn’t like Zayn. He was charming and cheeky. Louis knew that. He also knew that letting himself get close to him wasn’t going to help him respect the rules of this camp.

They survived breakfast as a group of five, but what was to come next would probably steer more emotions. Louis read the words: “Group Therapy Session.”

That didn’t sound good at all. It sounded frightening. Not the therapy-part, that was okay. But doing it in a group…that wasn’t okay.

Louis shrugged and plastered a smile across his cheeks.

“You guys ready?” he spoke with enthusiasm, earning a few thankful smiles.

“Don’t jump; it won’t hurt. It’s the first session, so they won’t have time to be total jerks. Don’t worry,” Zayn grumbled with a roll of his eyes, stepping out of the cabin.

“Yeah, he’s probably right.” Niall nodded, patting Harry’s back. They followed the bad boy slowly, still unsure and shy.

Once there, Louis couldn’t help but snicker at the brutal stereotype the room was. It was pleasant brown, with some cream-colored accessories added, a huge plant with pointy leaves, a sofa, and even a bookcase. The person who they assumed to be the psychologist, smiled at them encouragingly.

“Sit down, boys. There’s enough room for all of us at the couch and the armchairs.” She smiled kindly, getting to her feet and following them to one of the armchairs. Louis simply let himself fall on the couch, not thinking about where or why. He was followed by Harry at his left and Liam at his right. That left Niall and Zayn in armchairs. Louis smirked at the urgency which moved Liam. He was obviously avoiding Zayn, especially in front of this smart-looking woman with glasses and a loose bun who was a supposed expert at solving problems. Louis felt her deep grayish eyes bore into him, like an x-ray, seeing everything.

“Boys, I’m Dr. Kimberly Palmer, and I’ll be one of your therapists throughout this camp,” she started. Her voice was relatively calm and pleasant, her grayish blue eyes examining them. Loose dyed blonde locks framed her cheeks together with black-rimmed glasses. Overall, she wasn’t that frightening. “So, I already know your names, I’ve read your application papers but I don’t know who’s who. So, let’s get into that. Alphabetically, Niall Horan.”

“That’d be me.” Niall raised his hand, smiling.

“Right.” The woman nodded, then proceeded to read all the other names too. “Zayn Malik. Liam Payne. Harry Styles. Louis Tomlinson.”

They all raised their hands, nodding or smiling at the doctor who was perfectly harmless. Maybe Zayn was right. Maybe the awkward questions wouldn’t be asked right away.

“Okay. Now that I know all of you, let’s get to know one another.” Dr. Palmer smiled. “I’m sure you guys don’t know too much about each other. Tell me about your families, basic things. Do you have brothers or sisters? Anything worth sharing.”

Louis smiled easily. This wasn’t that hard. These things were facts, not emotional crap that he wasn’t prepared for.

“I’m going to take a few notes during our sessions. Don’t worry about those. Honestly, they are only reminders for me, since you five aren’t the only ones I’m going to meet in the camp. So, don’t worry about them.” Dr. Palmer smiled encouragingly, turning to a new page in her huge notebook that looked awfully frightening; it must’ve contained too many secrets.

“Well, I’m half Pakistani,” Zayn started. He obviously had more experience with this whole therapy-thing than the others. “I have three sisters, and I’m not the oldest. I have one older sister. My dad’s Pakistani, my mum’s British.”

“I have four sisters,” Louis chuckled lightly. “I’m pretty sure I’m winning this. I’m the oldest, and I’m the only male in the family. Phoebe and Daisy, the youngest, are actually twins.” He smiled warmly at the thought of his sisters.

“I have only one sister, she’s older than me,” Harry pointed out, grinning. “Does anyone else have sisters?”

“Oh, I do…” Liam muttered shyly. “I have two.”

“No! I have no sisters!” Niall spoke up dramatically. “I only have an older brother. That’s not even funny. I’m standing out in every way.” He was laughing by the end of his sentence. Niall was always laughing. Louis always thought that it was the easiest to hang around him.

“So, none of you are your parents’ only child. That’s good. How do you get along with your sisters, and in Niall’s case, your brother?”

“Well, I spend most of my time with my sisters at home. I don’t know how mum manages to take care of them now that I’m here.” Louis smiled nonchalantly, even though the worry he felt was almost painfully hard to sweep under the rug. “I pick them up from school, and usually I’m the one who takes care of them. I dress them up when we’re leaving, and I serve their lunch because mum starts work at a godforsaken hour in the morning, and she comes home only after 7 pm, so I help her out.”

“That sounds like a lot of responsibility, Louis,” Dr. Palmer pointed out, and Louis could feel the gaze of the other four boys on him.

“Well, I’m used to it, honestly. It’s not like a job or anything. It’s normal to me.” He smiled easily, that practiced smile that would fool the untrained eyes.

“I don’t take care of my sisters,” Zayn spoke up. “My upper-class parents have money for a reason. We have nannies. For all of us, actually. They don’t give a shit about us, just like our parents, so everything works out just fine.”

Louis was sure that this statement should’ve been followed by some comment from the psychologist, but she simply nodded and didn’t say anything. She glanced expectantly at the other three boys who hadn’t spoken yet.

“Erm, me and my brother are pretty close, considering that he’s not living with us anymore,” Niall muttered awkwardly. “He’s travelling a lot and studying, but I always got along well with him.”

“My sister doesn’t live with us anymore, either,” Harry added slowly. “But she comes over all the time, and she’s…supportive of me, I guess. I love to spend time with her…”

“What about you, Liam?” Dr. Palmer’s patient voice filled the room.

“My sisters are both older than me, but they live at home. They’re studying.” Liam answered the question calmly. “We get along pretty well; they spoil me usually, and so do mum and dad.”

“Thank you.” Dr. Palmer smiled. “I get that your parents are together then, right?”

“Yeah, they are.” Liam nodded, smiling.

“What about you guys?” She glanced at the other four boys. “I understood that Zayn’s parents are together too.”

“Yeah, on a piece of paper. They see each other sometimes, but they’re never at home, so… But when they are at home, they like spending time together…” Zayn rolled his eyes at the thought, but didn’t give any more details.

“Ugh, my parents are together too,” Niall spoke up, avoiding the awkward glances in Zayn’s direction. “And they are not filthy rich, so they work at normal hours and don’t travel. They’re always doing the same thing, but it looks to me like they’re happy.”

“My parents divorced a long time ago,” Harry muttered, gazing at his shoes. “I have a stepdad though…”

“Do you get along with him?” Dr. Palmer asked the question that was forming on Louis’ lips too.

“I…did,” Harry mumbled a reply, still gazing downwards.

“What about you, Louis? You haven’t even mentioned your father throughout all of this.”

“Well…” He swallowed, punching himself on the inside. He should’ve been more careful. This woman was perceptive. “Mum and dad just got divorced… it’s really fresh and that’s why I have to take care of my sisters. It’s not that easy to feed five hungry mouths and work and be a mum and all…”

“I see.” Dr. Palmer nodded, not giving out any signs of, well, anything. Louis wanted her to do something, to say something, to ask or to comment. Sitting on that armchair with all those thoughts Louis didn’t know she had – it made the whole situation much scarier.

“Now tell me about the things you like or your hobbies. And even things that you don’t like,” Dr. Palmer continued, leaving Louis with his urgent thoughts about the whole therapy session. “Let’s start with Niall, again.”

“Well, people may think I’m lying when I say I’m the most carefree person in the world…” Niall started, grinning. “But I seriously am! I like to have a good laugh and to just have fun, without any weird boundaries. I like to eat. Seriously, eating’s my hobby. And I like to…erm, socialize. I like people. I play the guitar, I like music. That kind of stuff.”

“Thank you, Niall. What about you, Zayn?”

“I smoke. I like to party. I like being reckless and living the urban life to its finest. I don’t like being ordered around, and I don’t like when people tell me that something I do is wrong. I have to learn from my own mistakes. I don’t care about other people’s shit.” Zayn spoke up, firmly and proudly. Louis nodded slowly, understanding his point of view.

“I’m the complete opposite of Zayn, I guess,” Liam muttered silently. “I like to blend in with the crowd, and I don’t like to stand out. I like to respect the rules, they are there for a reason…and I…I’m just shy. I don’t have too many close friends, only a few whom I trust. I like it that way, honestly.”

“I see,” Dr. Palmer muttered and everytime she spoke those two words, Louis felt a tingly sensation in the pit of his stomach. Those two words were frightening, and it bugged Louis that he seemed to be the only one bothered by them.

He listened to Harry’s little confession: he liked to sing, he was outgoing, had a lot of friends, liked watching movies, spending time out and about with mates; he was a constant online presence, and from the looks of it, he liked good music. Louis paid attention to him, he really did. But he, somehow, focused on the way he said it, not what he actually said. He liked to watch Harry’s curls fall into his eyes to be shaken and pressed back above his forehead. Harry talked slowly, his voice was deep and shaky in a way. It was hard to explain. Louis liked listening to Harry – whatever he said would be okay.

“So, what about you, Louis?” He was pulled back into reality by Dr. Palmer’s calm voice.

“Err…I’d like to be able to say that I go out and party and everything…” he replied. “But I stay mostly at home or take the girls out into the park. I am outgoing in school. I like people, but the afternoon is the girls’ possession. I like to read, though, and I honestly watch every sitcom and series and…well, I sound boring. I just listen to music and play games on the computer. I read a lot; I love fantasy…that’s all,” he concluded honestly. Why would he brag of having a flawless life, anyway?

Dr. Palmer didn’t comment, again. She talked to them about the whole procedure and the things they’ll do in therapy sessions but she didn’t ask them about anything too awkward, honestly. Louis was amazed by this – almost secretive – approach on the subject.

“They’re all like this at the beginning,” Zayn explained once they were back in the cabin.

“Avoiding the real question?” Harry chuckled lightly. “She seemed nice, though.”

“They’re all nice. They are just too… shit to understand that people are different,” Zayn replied, shrugging.

Louis didn’t know what to think. Harry and Zayn looked so sure of themselves, Niall looked like he didn’t even understand the gravity of the situation. And Liam… well, Liam was understanding too much of it. Louis sighed as he sat down next to the curly-haired boy on their shared bunk.

“You really sacrifice yourself for your sisters…” Harry muttered, gazing into his eyes. The jade of his orbs were, again, searching, boring into him without shame. Louis gulped, trying and failing to tear his gaze away from the curly-haired boy.

“You have to do it once there’s no one else to do it,” he replied dumbly, still staring back at Harry.

“You guys…” Niall called from his own bed. “Why the hell are you staring at each other like you’ve never met before?”

Liam and Zayn’s eyes glued to them that second: Zayn was smirking. He didn’t comment, he just furrowed his eyebrows in a painfully honest and knowing way. Liam, on the other hand, looked frustrated. His eyes told a story of, “not again, not here, not now, you are not allowed,” and Louis saw that story flash before his own eyes.

Of course not. Not here, not now, and probably not ever, he thought to himself as he smiled that well-prepared fake smile to Harry again.


	4. Chapter 4

“So what’s next?” Niall asked, flopping down on his bed. Liam whipped out the schedule and read it carefully.

“According to this we have about fifteen minutes until, ‘Meditation and Spirituality.’ What’s that?”

“Oh, god, no. Not again,” Zayn grumbled placing his head in his hand. The boys turned towards him with curiosity.

“What is it, Zayn?” Louis asked “Is it like a class or something?”

“Or something,” Zayn groaned. “It’s bad, guys, really bad.” He rummaged through his bag until he retrieved an unmarked bottle that he quickly took a swig from. “You go and sit in the middle of all these trees with this creepy woman who has birds living in her hair and she tells you to breathe out your ass and become best friends with the earth and shit like that. It’s supposed to get us in touch with our ‘inner being’ or something. Trust me, man. You do not want to go.” He laid down on Liam’s bed, who shifted away uncomfortably. Why was this boy always getting so close to him?

“It could be fun,” Harry said shrugging. “Maybe it will be different this year.” Zayn shook his head.

“Last year, she tried to tell me that I have ‘homosexual tendencies’ because I do not ‘trust my relationship with Mother Earth.’” Louis snorted. “She focuses on your weaknesses, she makes you do embarrassing things… She doesn’t even have a name!”

“Okay, now you’re just messing around,” Niall said standing.

“Nope. She said something like, ‘one’s spirit cannot be entrapped by the cages that a name brings.’” The other boys stared at Zayn to get a sense of whether or not he was kidding. They couldn’t tell.

“Right…” Liam said, finally breaking the silence. “Well, we best get going then.” He headed for the door, not waiting for the rest to follow. He studied a map of the camp while he walked, trying to decide where they were supposed to go. It seemed as if the area where this activity was to take place was the farthest away from all the other places. He hoped they would get there on time.

“Hey,” a voice spoke from Liam’s left when they were several cabins away.

“Hi, Niall,” Liam answered, not looking up from his map. “Are the others coming?”

“Louis and Harry are back there a bit, chatting like two little girls. Zayn said he’s not going.” Liam stopped in his tracks and turned to face the Irish lad.

“Not going? What do you mean not going? He has to. It says right in the handbook that we must attend all activities unless excused by a counselor. We have to go back and get him,” he said hurriedly, panic rising in his voice.

“Whoa, calm down, Li,” Niall said, the nickname settling in Liam’s chest like a comforting sigh. “Don’t worry about him. We have to let him make his own mistakes. Right now just focus on what you came here for, and that’s you. Okay?”

Liam glanced up into the boy’s caring blue eyes. He was so sweet and gentle, seeming to know how to lead Liam away from the edge of worry that he was always balancing on, teetering and trying to catch his footing before he fell. The kind boy had ran after him the night before, calming him down and wiping away his tears after Zayn had upset him… and here he was again reminding him that he was responsible for no one but himself.

“Okay,” Liam replied softly. He bit back a small grin, not even caring about the no-contact rule as Niall slung his arm around his shoulders. Something about the lad made him feel tranquil, at ease, like he didn’t have to concern himself over the little things. He liked that feeling. He could get used to it.

Several minutes later they stopped at a path that seemed to lead away from the camp. A small sign read, “Silence please! Souls are meditating!”

“Well… this should be good,” Louis said, he and Harry having caught up. Niall parted from Liam, taking a slight lead down the twisting path through the trees. Harry and Louis giggled, whispering and pointing and various wind chimes hanging from the branches. A light breeze wrapped through the pipes, but all Liam could hear was tiny clangs, like pennies dropping into a jar, rather than music.

Liam suddenly bumped into Niall, who had stopped short as the path suddenly ended and a small clearing in the middle of the trees became visible. In the center was a tiny woman sitting cross-legged with her hands resting on her knees. Her gaze seemed vacant, distant, and Liam glanced over his shoulder in attempts to see what she was looking at. He saw nothing. He heard the twitter of birds, and he half expected to see one fly from the woman’s mass of brown knots, like Zayn had said. Liam realized that he had probably been joking.

The woman did not speak or otherwise acknowledge the boys’ presence for several minutes. Her chest moved up and down evenly, breath whistling in through her nose and out through her delicate pink lips. She closed her eyes, continuing to audibly breathe, and Liam felt his own lids begin to droop and flutter. Something about this woman was very relaxing.

“You,” the woman spoke suddenly, ripping Liam from his trance.

Her voice was calm and high pitched, reminding Liam of Snow White or Cinderella from the Disney cartoons. He watched as her eyes suddenly focused, staring straight at the curly haired boy beside him.

“Erm, yes? I’m Harry,” he said stepping forward slightly.

“Wrong,” she said evenly. “You will abandon your human name at the door.”

“My…” Beside him, Niall covered his mouth to stifle a giggle. Louis elbowed him in the ribs.

“Join me,” she spoke again, extending her hand. Harry glanced at the others with apprehension. Louis gave him a small nod of encouragement and Harry slowly stepped towards the woman. Liam held his breath, wondering what would happen, but also thankful that he was not chosen first.

The woman stood gracefully as Harry approached her, her head barely coming up to his shoulders. She circled him once before gently taking a hold of his wrists and standing in front of him again. She slowly rotated his hands until his palms were facing the sky, and then placed her own lightly on top. She then closed her eyes and began to breathe as she had before, slowly and deeply, as if she was bringing air to every inch of her body.

Liam watched intently to see what Harry would do with the strange woman breathing and standing so close to him. He shifted slightly, and Liam was sure that his friend would pull away, but instead, his green eyes disappeared as he mirrored the woman’s actions. He stood there in silence for several moments until Liam noticed his shoulders gently rising and falling in time with the woman’s breaths. Harry’s inhales and exhales matched hers in the same slow manner, and his fingers slowly opened, allowing more of the woman’s touch to enter his hands. The moment seemed so intimate that Liam felt he should look away, but he could not. So instead he stood there, watching the two strangers breathe together.

In time, their eyes were opened and their hands were lowered, a peaceful look finding Harry’s face.

“Do you feel better?” the woman murmured. Harry nodded slowly, smiling.

“I do,” he answered. What did she mean? Liam wondered. What had been wrong with Harry? Was he sick? And whatever it was, what had this woman just done to fix it? Had she really done something to Harry right in front of them that had cured him of his ailments? Was he now… straight? Liam was suddenly eager to take his turn with the magical woman, to feel whatever Harry had felt, to become relieved from all of his problems. She turned towards the other boys.

“Meditation is a very powerful thing,” she said smoothly. “It can relieve stress, help you discover who you really are, and even cause you to live longer. You will find that it can help you in all aspects of your life, and I hope that you can learn to let it guide you during your stay here. I know that being different can be extremely draining on the body, and I invite you to be with me during our sessions, not to force change, but to let feelings come naturally as they will. You may be surprised what you learn about yourself when you let go.”

Liam wasn’t sure if he liked this woman. Maybe her intentions were good – she wanted to help them relax – but Liam really couldn’t afford to waste his time dilly-dallying; he needed structure. He needed people and activities that would keep him on the right path – the path to becoming heterosexual. He didn’t need a class to teach him how to breathe.

“Today we’re going to focus on a few beginners yoga poses and breathing exercises that will be the basis of what we do here each day.” She motioned for the boys to spread out and find a comfortable spot before she began explaining a simple pose – mountain, she called it. Liam stood with his hands placed firmly in front of his chest as the woman told him to breathe. He didn’t want to breathe. He didn’t want to relax. He couldn’t see how this would help him at all.

“You’re not relaxing,” the woman murmured, coming towards him. Liam didn’t speak. “Come here, sweet child.”

She led him a bit away from the others, and Liam did as he was told, kneeling down in front of the woman when she motioned to. She grasped his sweating hands, surprising him a little, and held them tightly, eyes closed, face pointed to the sky. Liam glanced awkwardly at the others who were still focusing on holding their pose, oblivious to what was going on with him.

It was silent for several minutes, but it felt like hours to Liam. What was this crazy woman doing, clutching his hands and breathing noisily? Was she reading his thoughts? Was she going to tell him the root of his problem, why he was having such terrible and wrong feelings? Would she –

“Do you know who you are?” she spoke suddenly, making Liam jump.

“Um…” Liam spoke uncertainly, worried he would give the wrong answer. Up until today, he had thought that he was Liam, but remembering that she had said something about “abandoning human names,” he assumed that wasn’t the right answer.

“Do you have any animals in your home?” the woman asked, not waiting for an answer to her first question.

“Yes. I have two turtles.” The woman nodded slightly, staring with an intruding gaze into Liam’s eyes.

“Yes,” she spoke, as if she already knew. “And do you know why you have turtles?” Liam blinked. What kind of a question was that?

“Because… I like turtles?” he spoke slowly, unsure of everything that left his mouth. 

“Because you are a turtle,” she said firmly, gripping Liam’s hands tighter.

“I’m…”

“You… are a turtle.” Liam nodded slightly, as if he understood, but he was sure his face indicated that he was more than puzzled. He was a turtle? What did that even mean? Zayn was right; this woman was about two pecans short of a nut job.

“Do you know why you are a turtle?” the crazy woman asked. Obviously he did not. “Because you have a shell.

“You carry your problems on your back. You carry other people’s problems on your back. You help the scorpion across the river even though you know he will sting you. The shell weighs you down, holds you back, keeping you from all you can be. You cannot escape from your shell, so instead you retract yourself into it, away from the outside world. You have hardened yourself, and you have created a shell. You are a turtle.”

Liam inhaled shakily, wondering how this woman could have analyzed him so well just from the touch of his hand. He had never thought of it that way before, but she had gotten him spot on. Maybe the woman wasn’t as crazy as he had thought, but she sure did creep Liam out. She leaned closer to him, and lowered her voice.

“There was someone that you could not help.” Liam widened his eyes as the woman narrowed hers. They seemed to be filled with a thousand colors… blues, greens, browns… the colors of earth, the colors of understanding. “Someone very special,” she continued. Liam felt his body beginning to shake, his heart thudding, roaring a confirmation that he was sure the woman could hear. Tears threatened to push through from where they sat behind his eyes. “Someone you let drown. And they pulled you down with them.”

“S-stop,” he hissed unevenly, old memories beginning to bubble from where they lay buried deep inside of him.

“But they’re not gone. They’re still here. In the trees and in the wind…”

“Please,” Liam whispered harshly, his breaths coming sporadically as emotions boiled from within him.

“It’s not too late.”

“Stop it!” Liam wailed, yanking his hands away from the terrifying woman who was dissecting his feelings and secrets as if he was a dead animal. Maybe that’s all he really was – a lifeless, cowardly turtle whose shell could not protect him from the bone crushing truth. But he was not ready to face that.

~

“Liam?” Zayn questioned as the boy burst through the cabin door, breathing heavily, as if he had just been running. “Are you okay?”

Liam gasped for breath, for words, but his panting and emotions prevented him from speaking. Instead, he hurried towards his bed and flopped down, burying his face in the pillow.

“Liam,” the older boy spoke again, sliding down from his bunk. Liam did not respond as silent tears stained his pillow case or when he felt his bed shift as the other lad sat down next to him. He felt a gentle hand on his back, fingertips circling slowly.

“You’re better than everybody who wants to bring you down, Liam,” Zayn murmured soothingly. Liam choked out a sob. “And I promise, you’re perfect just the way you are.” The weeping boy rolled over to face Zayn, taking a hard look at his face. There was something different about it that Liam hadn’t noticed before. His eyes flickered with a light of warmth. The rigid, bad boy exterior was peeling away, and Liam swore he saw a gentle hint of compassion that had swept over him, traveling from his gaze and fingers into Liam’s skin.

Liam blinked, and the door was opened, revealing the other three lads. He wiped his eyes, and Zayn quickly stood, rubbing his neck awkwardly. Liam tried to meet his eyes again, but Zayn shifted away, his stance and exterior hardening again. He retrieved a cigarette from his pocket and tucked it between his lips as he bent over his bag.

“I’m fine,” Liam responded to a question he hadn’t really heard. He stood and walked towards the others, pasting a fake but reassuring smile on his face. “Just a little shook up from that crazy woman’s hypnosis junk.” He turned back to Zayn, but the lad had disappeared. Liam tried to shake it off. He had probably just imagined Zayn actually acting human for once and trying to comfort him. Why would anyone try to help him anyways? It didn’t matter; it wouldn’t work.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written by Nora

Liam tried his best to find out more about Zayn’s other side that afternoon. He tried to talk to him, to engage in some kind of conversation or just to know him a bit better, but nothing happened. The older of the two was reluctant, he avoided him as much as he could.

“Hey, mate…are you okay?” The thick Irish accent shook him out of his thoughts.

“Oh, yeah…fine, Niall. I’m just a little tired of the creepy woman.” Liam shrugged, gazing into the searching blue eyes.

“That woman freaks me out,” Harry confessed. Liam looked at him, sprawled on his bunk together with Louis.

“Just what are you two doing?” he questioned, arching his eyebrows.

“We’re trying to figure out what the hell happened to him under that witch’s possession,” Louis mumbled a reply, not tearing his gaze from Harry’s eyes.

“By gawking at each other?” Niall chuckled. “That’s weirder than the woman herself.”

“But isn’t that what she’d been doing to Haz?” Louis rolled his piercing blue eyes. “Curly here says that he felt immensely calm and, for a few seconds, he thought he wasn’t even there anymore.”

“Curly sure has a lot of nicknames.” Zayn smirked, a smug, knowing look forming on his face.

“And either way, guys, you won’t succeed like this. You have absolutely no clue about what the hell you’re doing…” Niall mumbled. “Did it really have an effect, Harry?”

“I’m not even sure…something happened…and I felt like she’d taken away something that was pressing on my chest constantly. It was like a gulp of fresh air after holding your breath for long.”

“It’s freaking me out…” Louis muttered, his gaze falling on Harry’s hands. “Did she touch you or anything?”

“I don’t know, Lou…” Harry shrugged, smiling at the boy’s concentration. “You’re staring holes into me, by the way.”

“Sorry… It’s just…” Louis blushed. “I don’t know. I thought she was hurting you.”

“I… don’t think so.”

“Well…okay.” Louis smiled, confusion flashing through his features, only for a second, before his reassuring, calm smiled spread on his cheeks. “What now?”

“We have a little time for ourselves today.” Niall grinned. “The witch is probably enough for a day.”

“Really? They gave us that much free time?” Zayn smirked. “Last year we had to go straight back to a psycho-dude when the witch was done with us.”  
“It’s written over here…” Liam muttered, holding his sheet with their timetable.

~

“Zayn, mate.” Niall grinned as he took a seat next to the older boy. “Out for a little fresh air?”

“Probably. Yeah,” Zayn mumbled, a cigarette tucked between his lips.

“Why all alone?” the blond boy wondered.

“Hm? I don’t think Liam would survive it if I started smoking in the cabin. And I’m sure all of you hate smoke. So, simple.”

“You care for Liam, don’t you? Even if he thinks you hate him.” Niall smiled warmly. “You’re not as bad as we think you are.”

“I don’t hate Liam, or any of you.” Zayn shrugged, avoiding the Irish lad’s piercing blue eyes. “I just hate being here, that’s all. And Liam… he’s just too tense. Freaks out easily about anything. Something major happened to him, that’s why he’s here. He’s just not willing to tell us, yet.”

“How many times have you been here already?”

“Fourth time,” Zayn chuckled darkly. “It worked so well. I go home and explicitly fuck the first guy I can get just to show my parents that this is bullshit. They have too much money and no time to actually talk to their children. No wonder we’re so twisted.”

“Is it really that bad here, though? Food’s good, you get to know a lot of lads, and well, who cares about these weird people running around in circles?” Niall shrugged easily.

“Niall, babe. You have no idea. You’ve only met two people here. The psychologist is normal, and the witch is only creepy if you let her be creepy.”

“There are worse?” The Irish boy giggled.

“Well, as a starter, there’s a highly religious, almost-priest dude who wants you to pray your gay away,” Zayn laughed bitterly. “He says things like ‘God doesn’t like you this way; he didn’t make you like this,’ and that ‘you’re a sinner,’ and all.”

“Oh… I thought that species died out already.” Niall shrugged, eyes widened.

“It’s just hard after a while here, you know,” Zayn mumbled, taking a puff of his cigarette. He exhaled the smoke and glanced into the intricate shapes the gray fumes made in the air. “Most of the people here start going with the illusion of being straight. They believe that they can actually change. And that makes them feel like they’re worthy of society. The others just fake it for the program and for their parents so they can just get away. Some of them just break, like Liam. They panic and feel like they’re not able to live up to the expectations. And they just… break.”

“Liam hasn’t broken though,” Niall mumbled, hoping for a positive reply.

“No… not yet. But if they keep pushing him, he’s going to either turn into someone who’s just not him… or into someone who lies to himself. And when he finds out that he’s so fucking unhappy, he’ll just break.”

“Zayn…” The Irish boy didn’t know what to say. The so-called bad boy shocked him, almost scared him.

“Oh, but my favourite type of camper is the Louis-type.” Zayn smiled, glancing at the blond boy.

“What’s that?”

“The one who is pretty sure of his sexuality, maybe too sure,” the raven-haired boy explained calmly. “He knows for sure that he’s attracted to guys, he knows that he’ll never be able to change. But he’s struggling with judgment issues and he simply pushes everything down. Lying to himself is easier than to accept that he’s having a crush on a guy. I’m pretty fucking sure that Louis will be the first one to fall in love and the first one to either break the important rules or to freak out big time.”

“Mate… you sure know a lot of this place.” Niall mumbled, still in a daze.

“Been there, done that, so they say.”

“But do you…?”

“Think that Louis will fall for someone?” Zayn chuckled darkly. “I have a suggestion for you, Niall. Just listen and look at him more closely. You’ll see.” The Irish lad nodded, unable to come up with a reply. His thoughts swirled in his head, uncontrollably. “Don’t be scared, though.” Zayn smiled reassuringly, putting his cigarette out. “For most of us it’s just an awkward little summer camp.”


	6. Chapter 6

Louis lay awake the next night staring at the ceiling blankly, replaying the day’s events in his head. They had paired off and answered these stupid questions about their feelings and “deep inner issues.” They were supposed to get to know their partners, help them come figure out from where their “self-issues” stemmed, and offer each other support. Louis had been paired with Zayn, who was less than committed to the activity, constantly muttering how stupid it was, that there was nothing that caused him to be gay – he just was.

Throughout the duration, Louis could not stop sneaking glances at Harry, who was paired with Niall. He felt a strange sense of protectiveness as he watched the blonde and the curly-haired boy giggling in the corner. Every now and then, he noticed Harry’s hand fall on Niall’s knee, and he had to swallow a lump forming in his throat, shaking thoughts from his head and focusing on the questionnaire in his hands. They shook a little as he tried to regain his breath. He wasn’t jealous. He shouldn’t be jealous. He and Harry were just friends, and that was all they ever would be – all they ever could be.

“Louis?” A soft voice broke his thoughts. “Are you awake?”

“Yeah,” Louis whispered into the dark. The voice from the bunk below him didn’t speak again, and he wondered if he had imagined it. He turned over on his side and listened, trying to make out whether the light sleep-filled breathing he heard could be Harry’s.

“Could… could you come down here?”

Louis let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he forced himself to sit up and pull back the warm blankets swaddling his legs.

“Okay,” he breathed, jumping from the bunk to the floor. He winced slightly, hoping the thud hadn’t woken up the others, before facing Harry.

Harry was sitting up in his bed, facing the wall, with a green blanket wrapped around his shoulders. Louis took a step closer, and noticed that Harry appeared to be shaking. The older boy’s stomach dropped in alarm as his heart began pounding faster. At once he was sitting on the bed, tentatively placing a hand on Harry’s shoulder. Harry jumped, before relaxing into the touch.

“Harry?” Louis spoke quietly. “Harry, what’s wrong?” Harry sniffled, and shook his head, still not turning to face Louis. “Haz… what is it? It’s okay, love. You can tell me,” he encouraged gently, lightly rubbing Harry’s arm. He began chewing on his lip as his mind filled with worry. What could be wrong? he wondered. Was Harry ill? Did he miss home? Whatever it was, Louis wanted to comfort him.

“I’m sorry,” Harry murmured, wiping at his eyes. “I feel stupid. I just… I had a… b-bad dream.” Louis scooted closer and pulled the lad into his arms until he was resting against his chest. Harry didn’t resist. He sighed and fell into his friend willingly, letting more tears fall as he began to cry more. Louis’ hand found the sleepy mop of curls, stroking them gently as a soft string of shushing sounds feathered from his lips in attempts to calm the light sobs that had started in the other’s chest. Louis rocked him back and forth and placed a light peck against the curls the way his mother used to when he was little. Harry nuzzled the soft fabric of Louis’ sleep shirt and sniffled, pulling his blanket closer around him.

“Do you want to talk about it, babe?” Lou asked gently. Harry sat up, letting Louis see his face in the dark for the first time. He looked so small and frightened. Lou tenderly wiped away a stray tear from the other’s cheek with the pad of his thumb. Harry shook his head, but began to speak anyway.

“It’s just… Why are we here, Louis? At this stupid camp. Do you ever question what you’re doing here?”

“To get better,” Lou answered simply. It was true. That was why he had come, after all. That was what he and his therapist had talked about, what he had told his parents… it was his goal. He had begun attending the camp with a problem. He intended to leave with a solution.

“But… we don’t need to get better Louis. We… we’re not sick. We just… happen to l-like boys,” the boy stuttered through his tears. Louis bit his lip. Harry was so beautiful, even when he cried, even in the dim night air of the cabin with just a light from outside outlining his features. Louis closed his eyes and swallowed hard.

“But it’s wrong,” he spoke, avoiding Harry’s gaze when he opened his eyes again.

“Would you two shut the hell up?” an irritated Zayn hissed from the bunk across the room. Harry tensed and turned away from Louis slightly, burying his face in his knees which were drawn to his chest. Louis said nothing for a while, not until he heard Harry’s muffled voice.

“What?” he questioned quietly, as to not disturb his roommates again. Harry lifted his head, and Louis saw fresh tears brimming in his eyes.

“I said I like you,” Harry mumbled. Louis cocked his head to one side.

“Well, I like you too,” he said, slightly confused. “You’re a good lad.” Harry shook his head and looked to his lap.

“I mean… I really like you, Louis. Like… I fancy you.” Louis sat back, slightly startled by the boy’s sudden confession.

“B-but… but…”

“I know,” Harry said sighing before repeating the elder’s words. “‘It’s wrong.’ But why is it wrong, Lou? By whose standards is it wrong?” Louis shook his head trying to clear Harry’s words from his mind. He couldn’t be saying these things, couldn’t be feeling the words he spoke.

“Harry, I…” Louis’ voice came out in a dry croak, harsh with confliction and worry.

“Louis,” Harry spoke gently, inching closer. He rested his hand on the older boy’s knee, who jumped at the touch. “You’re wonderful. You’re smart, you’re funny, and you’re so unbelievably pretty… I look at you, and I see those things, and I think, ‘I wouldn’t mind seeing that for the rest of my life.’ I just… I think you’re a great person, Louis. What’s… what’s wrong about that?”

Louis met Harry’s wide questioning eyes, reminding him of a child who so desperately wanted their parents’ approval, to be told that he had done something good. He watched a small tear glimmer on the tip of Harry’s lashes as it caught the light from outside their window.

“Can you honestly tell me,” Harry spoke, lower lip and voice quivering, “that it’s wrong that I could love you?”

Louis tried to remember everything he had read, everything he had told himself. Two men did not belong together. It was not biologically or socially right. It went against the sanctity of marriage and most major religions… Two males couldn’t produce. There were so many reasons he had been told it was wrong.

But watching the young boy he sat beside, so explicitly pouring his heart out, mirroring emotions that Louis had tried to push away, saying that he could love him… it all went away. All of the twisted mixed up logic he had been force-fed, the stress he had held in his muscles for so long, the guilt, the shame, the ache was all rushing out of his body in a deep exhaled hiss. All he was filled with was Harry’s dampened green eyes, his shaky breath, his whole being… And his words: “I could love you.”

Harry lowered his head, shaking it lightly in the silence between them.

“It’s alright,” he murmured. “I’m sorry.” He wiped at his eyes and got up off the bed, much to Louis’ alarm.

“Harry, no!” Louis pleaded, suddenly finding his voice. He reached up and clutched Harry’s arm, tugging him back and standing in one fluid motion. Before he could think, Louis stepped forward and pulled Harry close until their lips touched in a loving kiss unlike one he had ever felt. Harry gasped in surprise but kissed him back, hands tentatively finding Louis’ sides. Lou reached up until his fingers were in Harry’s curls, wrapping them around his digits and dragging out the kiss. When their mouths finally separated, they stared at each other through the darkness.

“I can’t,” Louis whispered.

“Can’t what?” Harry replied. Louis bit back a small smile.

“I can’t say that it’s wrong.”


	7. Chapter 7

“Liam?”

The young boy awoke with a start as he heard his name being whispered. He opened his eyes to see a grinning blonde kneeling next to his bed. Liam jumped, not expecting the lad to be so close to him, and sat up instantly, causing his head to hit the top of his bunk.

“Ow!” he yelped, rubbing his scalp and frowning.

“Sorry,” Niall said, wincing along with the other boy. His expression changed as he scrambled from the floor and slipped on his shoes. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?” Liam asked, getting out of bed slowly. He was a bit cautious and wary of the boy’s chipperness; how could he be so excited and calm when they had to worry about whether they had therapy or if they had followed the countless rules correctly?

“Harry, Louis, and I are going for a swim before breakfast. Thought you might like to come,” Niall replied, grabbing a few towels. Liam bit his lip. They weren’t allowed to go to the lake unless a lifeguard was on duty, which really meant that they couldn’t be trusted to be appropriate without a chaperone, and Liam knew for a fact that the lifeguards didn’t begin until after breakfast.

“Um, no thanks. I think I’ll stay here.” Niall shrugged, and Liam was secretly glad the boy wasn’t trying to convince him any further. He breathed a sigh of relief as Niall left their cabin, glad to finally be alone.

“Scared to see them topless?” a voice suddenly came from the doorway. Liam jumped again, though he was careful of his head this time.

“What?” Liam responded, brows furrowed. In the entrance of their room stood a sweat-soaked Zayn in shorts and a tank top, arms folded as he leaned against the door frame.

“The guys. You don’t want to swim with them because they’re hot, and you don’t need the temptation, right?” Zayn said, entering the room and grabbing a water bottle from one of the dressers before taking several long swigs. Liam kept his head down as he began pulling the covers up to his pillow, making his bed neatly as he did every morning.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” he spoke, hoping Zayn would go away. Instead, the dark boy came closer, taking the other side of Liam’s blanket in his hands and tugging upwards along with Liam. Liam chewed the inside of his cheek, not wanting anyone to touch his things, especially his bed things.

“Come on, mate,” Zayn spoke, tucking one of the edges into the mattress. “You’d have to be blind not to see that they’re sexy as fuck.” Liam shifted uncomfortably, fluffing his pillow and turning away to gather his clothes for the morning.

“Do you have to swear?” he murmured, picking out a brown jumper and a pair of khakis. He grabbed a clean pair of briefs and his shower caddy before standing, feeling his heart take a leap once again as Zayn stood inches from him, having snuck up behind Liam.

“What’s wrong with swearing?” Zayn asked, snatching Liam’s underwear from his grasp with a smirk. “Tighty-whiteys?”

“Give me those!” Liam shouted, lunging for them and missing as Zayn stepped away. Zayn snickered and ran out the back door with an embarrassed and angered Liam running behind him. Liam gave a frustrated huff as he saw Zayn sprinting for the showers. “Zayn!” The dark-haired lad either didn’t hear him or didn’t care to respond because he kept running, leaving Liam no choice but to run after him, trying to hold onto his clothes and keep his shower things from falling out of his caddy.

As Liam finally caught up, he entered the building that Zayn disappeared inside of, making his way to the bathroom that was reserved for him and his cabin mates. “Zayn!” he called, seeing that the door had already been unlocked and was open. Liam heard the shower running as he approached the room, remaining outside and facing away as he shouted to the boy again. “Zayn! I need those back!”

“Come get them then,” Zayn spoke from inside the bathroom. Liam turned slowly to see that the boy was leaning against the wall furthest from the shower twirling the boy’s underwear on his finger. In the corner, the single shower head was spurting a steady stream of water to the floor where it swirled into a pool and slid down the drain in the center of the room.

“You know two people aren’t allowed in the bathroom at the same time,” Liam spoke, hoping Zayn would quit fooling around so that he could take a shower.  
“It’s funny,” the boy continued, tossing Liam’s underwear on the bench beside him. “You wouldn’t think so from the size of this room.” He curled his thumbs into the sides of his shorts and slipped them shamelessly past his hips, causing Liam to shriek in surprise and drop his things with a clatter.

“What the heck are you doing?!” He could hear Zayn chuckle as he turned away, eyes squeezed shut.

“I’m taking a shower. Went for a run, and now I’m gross. Care to join?” Zayn responded cheekily.

“No, I do not!” Liam responded, bending down to retrieve his things. “I’m going back to the room. Bring my underwear when you come back, please.” Liam swallowed hard as he heard Zayn come closer, and soon he was staring at the boys’ feet. Zayn stood in front of him, dripping water onto Liam’s head like small hot droplets of forbidden contraband. Liam didn’t move, didn’t take his eyes off of the shampoo bottle in his hand, because he knew if he did, he would be met with a naked and wet Zayn, which he definitely did not want to see. He couldn’t. He couldn’t want to, and he couldn’t break the rules, and he couldn’t see Zayn naked.

“Liam. Look at me,” Zayn spoke, but Liam did not. He couldn’t even imagine how or why Zayn could be asking him something so crude as to look at him naked.

“It’s inappropriate. It’s…”

“I don’t mean like that, Liam,” Zayn spoke, interrupting. “I mean just look at me. My face. Stand up, and look at me.” Liam set down his things, placed his hands over his eyes, and stood shakily. He lifted his head before peeking through his fingers at the boy. Just his face. That’s what he’d asked.

“What?” he asked as Zayn’s wet head came into view.

“You don’t need to be afraid of seeing another lad,” Zayn spoke lowly, voice smooth and gentle. “I wasn’t trying to do anything other than take a shower, okay? And guys do that in front of other guys all the time in locker rooms. Seeing someone’s body is not a big deal. You don’t need to be scared.”

From what Liam could see, Zayn’s expression had changed. He wasn’t cheeky or teasing like he’d been a few moments ago. His hard exterior seemed to have been washed away with the shower, and he seemed calm and understanding. Liam blinked beneath his fingers. Surely they were in the way of his viewing Zayn how he really was. He saw the other boy’s fingers coming towards Liam’s eyes, touching his hands as if to pull them away. Liam pulled away first, taking a step back and crouching back down to get his things.

“I’m not scared, and I’m not showering with you,” Liam spoke firmly, though his insides were shaking. “Bathroom doors are supposed to be shut when the shower is running, and one person is allowed in there at a time. That’s the rule.” Zayn sighed and returned back into the room, much to Liam’s relief. He saw his underwear land beside him, and he scooped them up quickly before Zayn could take them again. He stood with a wavering exhale as he made his way out down the hall, deciding that he would skip a shower until after breakfast. And although he wanted to peer over his shoulder, simply to see if Zayn had listened and shut the door of course, he didn’t. Because that was against the rules.


	8. Chapter 8

“What do you see in this picture?”

Niall studied the photo he was handed, some stock image of two gay couples sitting next to a Christmas tree. Niall was sitting alone with one of the therapists, Dr. Levi, in her office as part of one of his daily therapy sessions. Every time he went to a private therapy session, Niall felt a little strange without the others there, but at the same time, he was almost relaxed. There seemed to be so much drama and tension already, and he often managed to fall into the middle of things without even meaning to.

“Four men under a Christmas tree,” Niall answered simply. Dr. Levi nodded, encouraging him to go on. “Um… There are lots of presents around. These two men are kissing and holding hands. Those two men are looking at each other.” He went to hand the photo back, but Dr. Levi was busy jotting things down.

“What do you think about that?” she asked, not looking up.

“Well,” Niall began again. “They look like they’re very happy together.”

“And what makes you say that?”

“Those two are smiling,” he said, pointing. The answer seemed simple enough. He felt as if he was back in school as a young child, reading a picture book with the class. ‘How do you think the character is feeling?’ the teacher would ask. ‘Happy,’ the children would answer in unison.

“So a smile means someone is happy?” Dr. Levi questioned, peeking up over her glasses at the blonde boy.

“Generally, yes,” the boy responded, nodding.

“So you’ve never put on a fake smile when you weren’t truly happy.” Niall thought about this, finding the question to be rather odd. It didn’t even seem as if it was a question. She had spoken the words as if they were a statement, a fact that she was reciting. It was a ridiculous proclamation, as if she was putting words in the poor boy’s mouth.

“Well, yes. I mean, sometimes, I suppose. Smiling makes you feel better when you’re upset,” Niall explained. He had heard this many times, and supposedly there was scientific evidence behind it. He decided to leave that part out.

“So how can you tell the difference between a real smile and a pretend smile?” Dr. Levi continued, further confusing the young lad. Was she still talking about Niall, or were they back to speaking of the photo?

“I don’t know,” he spoke with a slight shrug. Dr. Levi paused, writing more things that Niall wished he could read. But that was against the rules. Each boy had their own notebook that went with them to every therapy session. The doctors and counselors were allowed to read each other’s notes, keep up with each boy’s progress and stay on the same page so to speak, but the boy’s were not allowed to read about themselves. It didn’t bother Niall too much, but he was beginning to grow curious, especially now as Dr. Levi grilled him about fake smiles.

“And what are some things that make you happy?” Dr. Levi asked after a few moments.

“My family,” Niall answered without hesitation. Dr. Levi held up the photo again.

“Do you see any family in this picture?” Niall cocked his head to the side slightly.

“Well, they’re each other’s family.” Dr. Levi waved off his answer. Apparently it was not the one she was looking for.

“Besides that. Do you see any parents, children, grandparents, cousins, siblings, anything?”

“I… suppose not,” he answered, though neither of them could be entirely sure. Maybe two of the men were brothers, getting together for the holidays with their husbands. Maybe the children were napping, or the other relatives were just out of the picture.

“And why do you think that is?” she pressed further. Niall blinked, his mouth remaining closed. “They are alone,” the doctor continued. “Their family isn’t there with them on Christmas. The family abandoned them. And there are no children because homosexuals can’t reproduce. So they are alone.”

Niall sat in silence. That sure seemed like an awful lot to infer from a simple photograph. He wasn’t sure how he felt about everything she was saying. Was she right? She couldn’t be right. She didn’t know. It was a stock image, after all. The people in the picture were probably just actors. The shoot probably didn’t even take place on Christmas.  
“Now.” Dr. Levi pointed to the two smiling men that Niall had mentioned earlier. “Do you think these are real smiles, or pretend smiles like the ones you use to make yourself feel better?”

“I don’t know,” Niall mumbled. And he liked it better that way.

~

“What do you see in this picture?”

Liam jumped slightly as the picture was held out to him. He didn’t want to touch it. He didn’t want to look. He had seen pictures like this before, online and in magazines. There were men… kissing. And touching and being far too close. Granted, the men he had seen in the pictures in his private time were much more revealing and scandalous. This one seemed harmless on the outside – four men at Christmas – but Liam had grown to know that this kind of picture was just as inappropriate as the others. He kept his hands and his gaze in his lap.

“People,” he murmured, not wanting to say more than he had to.

“More specific.”

“Homosexuals,” he responded quietly, knowing that was the answer Dr. Levi was getting at.

“Very good,” Dr. Levi praised. “What are they doing?” Liam knew she was still holding the photo out to him, but he didn’t need to look again. The image was permanently etched into his brain now, causing his skin to crawl and his heart to race. His entire body was screaming, “Get it out!” but he could not forget it.

“K-kissing…” The word felt funny in his mouth, sounded weird to his ears. It seemed foreign, though he had said it before, even done it before, but…

“You’re uncomfortable,” she stated. Liam nodded, squeezing his eyes shut. Why was she making him do this? It seemed cruel. He heard rustling of papers and assumed that Dr. Levi had put the picture away. He cracked an eye open to confirm his suspicions.

“Why are you uncomfortable?” she asked.

“Because. It’s…” He couldn’t find the words.

“It’s wrong,” Dr. Levi offered. Liam nodded in agreement. “It’s improper, it’s vile, it’s immoral.” Liam nodded again fiercely. It was, all of it was so, so wrong. It was then and it still was now. He knew that. He repeated it in his head more times than his brain told his lungs to breathe. Breathe in the fact - it’s wrong, wrong, wrong - and breathe out the temptations, the images, the evil.

“You know that it’s perverse,” Dr. Levi said, eyebrows raised.

Liam flicked his head up and down once more.

“Yes.”

“Good.”

~

“What do you see in this picture?”

“Couple of gay blokes.” Zayn was all too familiar with this exercise, having to study a picture and speak of it. One time it was two men in a hammock. Another was a gay pair cuddling in bed in front of a laptop. That led into an interesting discussion of, “the horrid temptations of pornography,” words that made Zayn want to laugh his arse off. The picture may have changed from year to year, but the intentions, the answers, remained the same.

“That’s right. Two pairs of homosexuals,” the doctor answered, correcting Zayn’s word choice. “What else?”

“Presents.” Zayn thought the entire thing was a bit ridiculous. The woman could very well see the picture just as he could. Why did he need to tell her what he saw?

“Very good. Now, what do you think these men got each other for a present?” Zayn tapped his finger to his chin, pretending to scan the picture in deep thought.

“Well… this green one here is probably a butt plug, and this red one is the gay agenda for destroying the world.” Dr. Levi set down her notebook and peered over her glasses.

“Mr. Malik, this is a serious matter,” she scolded firmly.

“Well, how the bloody hell am I supposed to know what kind of presents they are? They’re probably empty boxes used as props for the fucking picture!”

“Language, Mr. Malik.” Zayn slumped back against the couch, folding his arms in a huff. “Now, let’s forget the presents for a moment. What are they celebrating?”

“Christmas,” the lad responded, deciding to humor the woman for a moment.

“Very good. Now, what is Christmas?” Zayn blinked, expression blank and apathetic. This question was almost as ridiculous as the presents question. He chose not to answer. His cooperation for the day was just about over. “The birth of Christ,” she answered for him.

“Sure,” Zayn said, trying not to roll his eyes. He had never been religious, and this was always his least favorite part of coming to the camp.

“Sure?” Dr. Levi questioned. Zayn said nothing, and the doctor moved on. “Do you think these men have the right to celebrate Christmas?”

“Of course they do,” Zayn responded flippantly. “We all have the right to celebrate whatever we believe and worship whoever the hell we want to worship.” Dr. Levi ignored his cursing and continued.

“So they worship Jesus.”

“Sure.”

“They follow His word.”

“Sure.”

“But by being gay, they go against Jesus’ word. Homosexuality is a sin.”

“Jesus never said a damn thing about being gay,” Zayn retorted, anger growing. Dr. Levi sat back, removing her glasses as she studied the young boy in front of her.

“Are you a Christian, Mr. Malik?” she asked, and Zayn wished she would lose the formality. Why couldn’t she call him Zayn?

“No,” he snorted. He told the doctors and therapists this fact every year. He was not religious. They couldn’t seem to get this through their thick narrow minded heads. Dr. Levi leaned forward.

“Then how do you know what Jesus did or did not say?” Zayn leaned forward as well, challenging the woman with narrow eyes.

“Because I’m not an ignorant twat.”

~

“What do you see in this picture?”

Louis took the picture from the woman’s hands, a smile spreading across his face. The couples looked so happy, being able to spend such a special time with the one that they loved. Louis longed for the day when he would have that, a special someone to take home for the holidays and kiss under the mistletoe.  
His eyes drifted to the men who were kissing and his smile grew further. He couldn’t help but wonder if that’s what he and Harry had looked like, alone in the dark several nights earlier when they had shared a secret kiss in their cabin. Neither of them had spoken of it since. They exchanged knowing glances, blushes and giggles while still keeping their distances and hiding their secret crushes from the world. But each night, Louis lay awake for many moments, staring at the ceiling and wondering if the boy in the bunk beneath him was asleep. He usually was. But Louis waited for Harry to wake up, needing Louis to comfort him from another nightmare. He never did though, which Louis supposed was a good thing; the boy deserved a peaceful sleep.

“Mr. Tomlinson,” the doctor spoke, ripping him from his thoughts.

“Sorry,” Louis spoke, lifting his head and removing his eyes from the picture. “I see people in love.” He knew this probably wasn’t the right answer, but it was the truth.

“And what makes you think they’re in love?” she questioned, scribbling in Louis’ notebook.

“These two are kissing,” he said, pointing as his gaze flew back to the two men that reminded him so much of himself and Harry. It was silly, really. The men were a lot older than the two boys - one was even balding - and neither of them looked anything like Harry or Louis. But it was the essence of their kiss and what it resembled. They were free to enjoy each other and the happiness that they created. That’s what it had been like when Louis had kissed Harry in their room. In their dimly lit privacy, they were free, just like the people in the picture.

“So a kiss between two people means they’re in love.”

“Well…”

Louis thought about this. He had kissed many people that he was not in love with. His first kiss was when he was very young, too young to even know what love really was. Even now, at sixteen, he still wasn’t positive that he knew. He and Harry were not in love. He didn’t believe love could happen that fast. Sure, Harry had said the word, but he meant it only as potential. They could love each other. They could. But for now, they were just two silly lads, testing if feelings were there with a simple kiss. They might even have to do it again.

“So if you and one of your friends here kissed, that would mean you two were in love.”

Louis froze.

She knew. Dr. Levi knew that he had a crush on Harry, and she knew that they had kissed, and she knew that the picture reminded him of it and that he had been thinking about it at that very moment. His heart began to pound as his stomach took a leap into his chest. But how did she know? Was he that easy to read? Were there cameras hidden in their cabin? Had Harry squealed?

Louis began to panic as he set the picture down on the couch beside him. The reality of the situation, of what had gone on, of where he was… it all flooded into him as if the dam of ignorant bliss had just been broken away.

He and Harry kissed. How could he have let that happen? How could he have kissed Harry, at an ex gay camp of all places? How could he have forgotten what he was trying to do for his family, for his sisters? He was supposed to be resisting temptation and getting better, not getting worse. He was on the wrong path, and he felt himself skidding to a halt as his brakes screeched against the pavement. He needed to turn around, go the other way. He needed to stop all of this before it was too late.

“Definitely not,” he answered with a shake of his head, hoping his voice sounded confident and convincing, though it felt rough and itchy.

“And why’s that?”

Louis swallowed hard. “Because two men can’t be in love.”

~

“What do you see in this picture?”

Harry blinked a few times, going over the picture with curious eyes. He didn’t know what kind of exercise this was. He had been asked the same question before when looking at ink blots at a therapist his parents had sent him too. The picture was vaguer, open for interpretation. Harry had seen a butterfly. Now, though, he was holding a photograph, where the image was much clearer.

“That one looks like my uncle,” Harry said, gesturing to one of the men.

“Oh really?” Dr. Levi spoke, seeming intrigued. “Tell me about him.”

“Um, well…” Harry was caught off guard at the question. Why would she want him to talk about his uncle?

“Do you see him often?”

“N-No, not really.” Harry tried to recall the last time he saw his uncle. It was probably one of the holidays. He was a very busy man, living his own life. He didn’t often get around to visiting, but when he did, they always had a good time.

“And why’s that?” Dr. Levi asked, going back to the lack of visitation. Harry shrugged, not feeling the need to go into it.

“He just lives far away, I guess.”

“So your family isn’t close with him?” Harry shifted. What was she getting at? “Is that because of something he has done, or a lifestyle choice he’s made?” Harry took a breath, trying to edge out of the conversation that was slowly making him feel uncomfortable in his seat.

“Excuse me for asking, Dr. Levi,” Harry began, trying to gain a little courage to voice his thoughts. “But what does my uncle’s life have to do with this picture?”

“You tell me,” Dr. Levi answered, staring at him with anticipating eyes. Harry chewed at his lip, trying to ponder the thought.

“I-I just said that this man looked like him…” he finally spoke, unsure of what else to say.

“Well, there must be a reason why you related your uncle to this shameful man here. Has your uncle done something reprehensible?” Harry felt tears beginning to prickle the inside of his nose and eyes. How could this woman suddenly start accusing someone she didn’t even know of doing something horrible? Both the man in the photo and Harry’s uncle? She had no right to pass judgement, and the thought that she was made Harry’s stomach churn.

“My uncle is not a bad person, Dr. Levi. And neither are the men in this picture. My uncle isn’t gay, but even if he was, my family wouldn’t just stop talking to him because of it.”

“How do you know?” she pushed. “Maybe he is and they just don’t want you to know. Maybe they don’t want to be around him because of his homosexual ways, so they discarded him from their lives. You don’t want that to happen to you, do you?”

“It won’t!” Harry cried out, probably too loudly. He was feeling extremely defensive and didn’t know why Dr. Levi was attacking him and the people he loved.

“Then why did they send you here?”

Harry shook his head, tears now flowing down his cheeks. He couldn’t form words, couldn’t fight with this woman any more. She had it in her head that his uncle was gay, and that being gay was bad, and that his parents hated all gay people. Everyone here felt as though two men sharing the most wonderful feeling was the most repulsive thing in the world. Harry didn’t understand. It broke his heart, it stabbed him in the chest like a thousand syringes every time they tried to pump the information into him. ‘It’s wrong, it’s immoral, it’s disgusting.’ Every word was another pinch, another shot of medicine in attempts to kill the viral bug inside of him. But he didn’t feel sick. So why did he need to get better? Harry was starting to see why Zayn hated it here so much. And he needed to get out. Now.


	9. Chapter 9

“God, I hate therapy,” Zayn grumbled as the boys walked back to their cabin at the end of the day.

“It’s not that bad,” Niall added, jogging slightly to catch up with Zayn’s quick and long-legged pace. The darker boy was anxious to have a smoke, maybe a drink or two, and then turn in for the night. “What do you think, Liam?”

Liam said nothing. He walked along behind the others, hands stuffed in his pockets and staring at the ground. Sometimes he felt as though if he didn’t pay attention to any other boys, didn’t look at them or listen to them, maybe they would disappear… all of his feelings and confused urges and thoughts would just go away and then he would be normal. He jumped suddenly as he felt an arm curl around his shoulders. He shrugged away and quickened his feet until he was racing along ahead of everyone, leaving the blonde boy who was just touching him to shrug and watch him rush off.

Several meters behind them, Harry was trying to whisper to Louis. “I’m leaving soon,” he said softly, not wanting the others to hear. Louis didn’t remove his eyes from the path ahead of them as he responded.

“Your folks change their mind then? Are they coming to get you?” Harry shook his head. He had hoped that it would happen that way. For several days, whenever a counselor approached him, his heart quickened and his eyes brightened with hope. His mum was there, they’d say, or she was on the phone. And she would come to pick him up, and he would run to her, and she’d cry and say how sorry she was, how she couldn’t believe that she’d made such a horrible mistake in sending him away just for being different. They’d embrace, and they’d sob, and then they’d take hands and go home, and it would all go away. He could be himself, be with someone of the same sex, and she would still love him and smile at him like he was her pride and joy, just like she had when he was little. But the call never came. And neither did his mum or the freedom he needed to feel.

“No,” Harry finally said, still keeping his voice down. “I’m leaving on my own.” Louis frowned, looking up at Harry as they approached the cabin.

“What do you mean?”

Harry opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off by Zayn, who had already entered with the others, shouting again about how much he hated therapy. As the last two boys came into the cabin, a man stood smiling with his hands clasped together in front of him.

“Another session?!” Zayn bellowed. Harry tried to meet Louis’ glance as the boys settled on the floor in a circle and the new therapist tried to calm down Zayn, but Lou didn’t see him. Harry guessed he would have to continue their conversation another time.

~

Zayn held the letter that had just been handed to him, rolling his eyes at the familiar exercise that was to come. He knew where this was going; they had done this in the previous years, and every year it was the same stupid routine.

“Take a look at the letters in your hands,” the counsellor announced to the group. He was new that year, overly enthused about writing… Zayn had already forgotten his name.

Zayn glanced around the circle where they sat on their cabin floor, watching as the other boys studied their letters carefully. Liam was hunched over, squinting as if he was concentrating so hard his head might explode. Zayn felt bad for the kid; he was going to get himself hurt one of these days with how seriously he was taking everything. Zayn simply glanced at the first line and knew instantly that it was the same phony letter they handed out every year:

“Dear Bonnie. I’ve learned a lot about what causes me to feel the way I do, and I’ve discovered many ways to help me avoid my triggers. Blah blah blah blah blah. Love, Stanley.” It was supposedly written by a camp member a thousand years ago or something, but Zayn knew it was fake as anything. It was obviously fabricated as an example, a made up story of some boy who was now a man and ready to return to his girlfriend Bonnie after ridding himself of his ‘horrible homosexual tendencies.’ Zayn refused to read, yet again, how good ol’ Stan would never look at another man with temptation again and how he only had eyes for dear Bonnie. It was disgusting and untrue, every word of it.

Zayn’s thoughts were interrupted by the therapist speaking.

“Today, you’re going to write your own letters. They can be to your parents, a friend, a counsellor here… You don’t have to put the person’s real name if you don’t want to. Write things you want that person to know. Write about the past. The present. The future. Write about things you’ve learned here so far and how you can apply that to your life.”

Across the room, Zayn saw Harry furrow his brow, causing the darker boy to, again, worry for the way the others treated these counselling sessions. They were just stupid little activities, things to keep the day varied and attempt to get them thinking about why they should want to change who they were.

Liam raised his hand. “Will we be graded?” Zayn snorted.

“No, Mr. Payne, you will not be graded.”

“Does it have to be long?” Louis asked.

“Just write what comes to you. Don’t worry about anything else.”

Zayn swore he could feel his eyes loosening from their sockets with how much he had been rolling them. He crossed his arms as he watched the others begin to write, not making a move towards his materials.

“Something wrong, Mr. Malik?” the man asked. Zayn sat up.

“I’ve done this activity a thousand times,” he stated, narrowing his eyes annoyedly at the counsellor. He was sure that copies of his letters were probably still in the office somewhere. If the man went into his file, he could pull them out instead of making Zayn do the incredibly mundane task once more. “I’ve already written to practically everyone I know.” The man frowned, as if in deep thought, and Zayn wanted to scream with the amount of effort and care that was being put into this.

“Why don’t you write to yourself then?” It was stupid. Write to himself? Why the hell would anyone write a letter to their own self? Was he supposed to stamp and address it to himself as well? Send it off and wait for the post to deliver it back to him? Zayn considered smarting off with those exact thoughts, but he only sighed, not seeing the point in arguing, as he flipped open his workbook to the blank pages in the back. He would at least make it look like he was writing. Hopefully that would get the man off of his back.

~

“Okay,” the man, Jarrod, his name was, spoke as he clapped his hands once. “Who’s ready to share?” Zayn scowled to himself. God forbid they wrote anything private.

“I’ll go first,” Niall offered, sitting up straight and clearing his throat.“‘Dear Mum.’” Zayn snorted, muttering a quiet, “Figures.” There was always one who wrote to their parents. Zayn had done it the first year, per his therapist’s request, though he knew she quickly regretted it when she realized he did not have one kind thing to say to them. Jarrod hushed Zayn and urged Niall to continue.

“‘Dear Mum… When I was little you taught me how important it was to say thank you. I would say thank you to the bus driver when she dropped me off at school. I said thank you to the man who bagged our groceries every Sunday at the store. I said thank you whenever someone said congratulations after a football win. But I don’t think I’ve said thank you to you, not as much as I should have, anyway. Thank you for always being there for me. I remember when I was little, and I wanted to be a merman for halloween, and you sewed me a costume. Thank you for that. Thank you for letting me switch primary schools when the other kids were mean to me. Thank you for reading me bedtime stories every night, and thank you for not getting mad when I told you I was too big for them. Thank you for telling me that it’s okay for me to be who I am and to love who I love, even if that person is the same sex as me. Thank you for understanding and letting me come here, to explore my options and find my own path. I’m very lucky to have a mum like you, and I will say thank you for everything you do for me from this day forward. With much love, Niall.’”

“Stupid,” Zayn muttered under his breath.

“What was that, Mr. Malik? Would you like to share next?” Jarrod asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Not really,” Zayn said more audibly, knowing for sure that the man was just teasing him now.

“I’ll share,” Louis spoke, not waiting for an answer before he began reading. “‘Dear girls, I have watched all of you grow from the day you were born, and I love each of you very much. I know it hasn’t always been easy, but I’ve tried my best to help Mum take care of you. I taught you to read, I walked you home from school, I made you soup when you were sick… I told you I was leaving because now I’m the one feeling sick, but I’m getting much better. I’m sorry that I left you. I hope you trust me when I say that this is what’s best right now.”

Louis paused, and Zayn wondered if he truly believed the words he had just spoken. Did he honestly think this was the best choice for him? Being here, away from everyone he knew and loved, suffocating as idiotic professionals squeezed the life out of them? If this was the best place to be, Zayn would rather be dead.

“I cannot help Mum take care of you if I do not first take care of myself. I want to be the best big brother I can be for the rest of our lives, and I know that I was unable to do that before. I’ll be better before I get home, and then, I promise, I’ll never leave again. Love, Louis.’” Zayn sighed impatiently, wishing he could knock some sense into these boys. He thought maybe Louis had it, the logic and reasoning to realize that this was just a joke, an in between, a filler before they found a place where they belonged as they were. But from the sounds of Louis’ letter, it seemed as though he was buying into the whole charade. Zayn wanted to scream at him, for him, and tell Louis that he wasn’t getting better - he was becoming worse.

Jarrod nodded at the conclusion of Louis’ reading, turning to the next boy in the circle. “Mr. Styles?”

Harry seemed to be shaking slightly, not taking his eyes off of the boy who had just read.

“Mine’s, um, kinda dumb,” he mumbled, fingering nervously at his lip. Jarrod smiled encouragingly, and Zayn wished he could punch the man square in the jaw. Harry took a deep breath, eyes flitting to Louis before they went back to his paper.

“‘Dear firefly…” Harry’s voice sounded strange to Zayn as he began to read, and he wondered if Harry realized. He remembered hearing once that a person’s own voice sounded different to them because the sound was already inside of their body, and it was traveling through bone, not air like what everyone else heard. It was as if a person’s own body was lying to them, saying that they sounded one way when they actually sounded another. Zayn couldn’t help but feel as if that’s what the staff was trying to train their brains to do - trick their own bodies. They wanted the boys to feel as though they were going to change, that they could become someone else, and many, like Louis, seemed to believe this. Zayn wondered if Harry was the same. Did the feelings in his bones seem different to him than the ones in the air? Did he feel the same way on the inside that he looked on the outside?

“‘You hide your light from the world, but I can see it, right under your tail. It blinks on and off at random times, kind of like mine. I used mine when I would fly, creating a glow in the deep dark of night so that I could find my way and not get lost. When I was caught here in this jar, I found my light to be useless. I wasn’t flying, and soon my light forgot how to shine. You’re in this jar with me, and it’s being shaken. They’ve captured us, and they want us to blink. And you do. You blink your light like fire for them, burning you while they study and stare at us from outside of the glass. I can see it’s exhausting you. How can you be so tired when we haven’t flown in weeks? You don’t have to flash in the pattern that they want. You can close your eyes and dim your tail when you want to sleep, and it will be okay. If the lid ever comes off, and we’re set free from this jar, I hope you remember how to glow your own. And if you were to come and fly with me, I would never force you to light yourself ablaze again. You make my heart shine enough to guide the both of us.’”

The room was silent and Harry’s teeth found his lip as his eyes found the floor. Zayn had underestimated him. The boy was opened up like a corpse on an autopsy table, and there was no longer any being or space between his bones and the air. Harry was practically begging the boy next to him to stitch him back up, and it was painfully obvious. It was as if Zayn was watching a tragic forbidden love story unfold right before his eyes, but when Zayn looked to Louis, it seemed as though the latter male was oblivious to the fact. He couldn’t hear Harry’s pleas; he was too focused on the sound in his own bones.

“That was very good, Mr. Styles,” Jarrod finally praised, breaking the silence and Zayn’s thoughts. “Mr. Malik?” The dark lad blinked, forgetting for a moment where he was and what they were doing.

“What?” he snapped with annoyance.

“Why don’t you read yours.” The boy grumbled as he flipped open his workbook.

“Dear Zayn,” he began, voice dripping with irritation as he held the paper in front of his face. “You’re a swell lad. You can make toast without burning the sides, and you’ve gotten through sixteen years without breaking anyone’s neck. Good job. You’re devilishly handsome, and you suck cock better than anyone I’ve ever met. People should be jealous of you. You’re an okay guy.” He stopped speaking, but didn’t look up from his paper.

Jarrod cleared his throat. “Is, uh, is that all?” he questioned. Zayn met the man’s eyes and tightened his jaw. What more did this guy want? This counsellor, Jerry or Jarold or whoever, and everyone else at the camp and at home… his parents, the therapists, the psychiatrists, the mentors, everyone. What did they want from him? What did the man mean, “Is that all?” It was who Zayn was. He wasn’t going to change, whether that was all there was or not.

“No. It’s not,” he continued, voice rising. “You’re an okay guy, but it’s not enough. You’ll only ever be okay, mediocre, the let down of the family because you don’t get the best grades, and you’re not great at sports, and you ‘keep things bottled up.’ Even all that could be forgiven, but no. You’re a disappointment because you kiss boys. You kiss boys, you fuck boys, you’re a boy who likes boys, and that’s disgusting.” His words were quickening now, voice breaking, eyes tearing, but he didn’t care. Now that he was talking, opening himself up like the corpse Harry had turned into, he couldn’t stop. “You’re disgusting, you’re a sinner, you’re a filthy piece of shit, you’re nothing but a disgrace of a son, a bent little fucked up sissy who can’t get a girl to say yes to you, so you turn to men like a fucking pansy.” His eyes were completely filled now, and tears began pouring onto his cheeks. The words spilled out of him like blood, and they tasted foul in his mouth, but they kept coming. “You’re a fucking faggot! You will quit this fucking homosexual bullshit or you will leave. Because you were not raised this way, and no son of mine is going to be a bloody faggot!”

With that, Zayn angrily threw his notebook across the room and stormed out of the cabin. Jarrod was instantly at his feet, going after the boy while the other four sat frozen on the floor. Everything felt as if it was going in slow motion, as if the room was filled with water, leaving the boys unable to breathe or move properly. Liam was shaking, right down to the tips of his fingers, as if Zayn’s words were rattling around inside of him. Harry was biting his lip so hard that he could taste blood, like a sick poisonous reminder of what they had just witnessed. Louis’ jaw and fists were clenched tightly, in a way that probably should have hurt but he could barely feel. It was Niall who moved first, who was able to swim through the thick sea of the harshness that had surrounded them. He stood and walked slowly to where Zayn’s workbook had landed, bending down to pick it up. It was still open to the page marked with that day’s date, but other than the set of numbers, the page was blank.


	10. Chapter 10

The four boys were left in the awkward silence that remained after Zayn’s sudden outburst. Niall was still clutching Zayn’s empty workbook while Liam was gripping his own thighs, desperately needing to feel something in his hands, holding onto a reminder that he was still there. Grounding exercises, one of his therapists called them. They kept him from spiraling into a panic when the situation threatened his anxiety. Seeing Zayn - such a steady presence at the camp - randomly explode in a fury of spewing hatred, and hearing him use the words that he did, made Liam feel like someone was strangling him, lifting the poor boy by the neck. He tried breathing deeply as he rubbed his palms against his jeans.

“Are you okay?” Niall asked, coming to Liam’s side. The blonde lad crouched down gently and tried to meet the other boy’s gaze.

“I’m fine,” Liam answered, tapping his fingers against the fabric lightly.

“What are you doing?” Louis said, causing Liam to jump and curl his fingers inward, hiding them from prying eyes. But when he looked at Louis, he realized the other boy wasn’t addressing him. Louis’ head was turned towards Harry, who had gotten up and was now kneeling in the corner, emptying drawers from the dresser that he and Louis were sharing.

“Packing,” Harry answered simply, closing one drawer and opening another.

“Packing?” Niall questioned, not moving from where he sat by Liam. Harry nodded.

“Mhm.”

“For what?” Louis spoke again. Harry didn’t answer. Louis’ eyes suddenly widened as the light suddenly clicked in his head. Harry had said he was getting out of there. But his parents hadn’t called and he wasn’t getting kicked out. “Harry. You can’t just leave.” The other lad remained quiet, closing the last of the empty drawers before rearranging things in his bag.

“You can’t just leave!” Liam echoed, his voice coming out in a panicked wail.

“Why not?” Harry asked, grabbing his extra shoes and shoving them next to his clothes.

“Because we need you here,” Niall spoke. Harry zipped his suitcase and hoisted it onto the bed, searching for where he kicked his trainers when he took them off last.  
“What about your parents?!” Liam asked.

“They’ll get over it,” Harry muttered, struggling to pull on his shoe.

“What about your cell phone?” Niall added. Harry paused and huffed a sigh. He had completely forgotten that they still had his phone in the head office along with his other confiscated items. He wished he had thought to ask Zayn about it earlier. He was sure the mischievous lad would have some way to get it for him.

“Already taken care of,” he lied, forcing his heel down as he tugged at his laces.

“I-if you leave, we’ll all get in trouble!” Liam stuttered, his attempts to remain calm failing him. Harry tried not to roll his eyes. He loved Liam, he really did, but he wished he could smack some sense into him, get him to see that he didn’t have to do what the counselors told him to do. He didn’t have to do what anybody told him to. They were each their own person, and they could make their own choices and be themselves, whether others liked it or not.

“You can’t leave now, Harry. Zayn needs us.” Harry scoffed in Niall’s direction.

“Like Zayn is going to stay. I bet you anything if I go ask him, he’ll come with me.”

“So you’re just… leaving?” Louis finally spoke again, his voice timid and quiet. Harry’s eyes softened as he turned to look at the pixie-haired boy who was now standing beside the bed where Harry sat. Harry stood, trying to offer an apologetic smile, but his lips barely moved. He watched Louis’ own, the same ones he had kissed days earlier, as they formed into a worried pout.

Come with me, he wanted to say. He could recite a thousand cheesy lines from romantic movies where one character begs the other to run away with him in the hopes that it would make Louis join him, and then they’d leave this stupid camp and go off some place where they could be accepted for who they were. It always worked for the straight couples in the old black and white films. But this was different. This was real life, this was in color. And they were gay.

Harry’s thoughts were interrupted by the cabin door slamming, and he and Louis whipped their heads back to see Niall standing alone and Liam off in a rush without so much as looking over his shoulder.

~

Zayn sat on a bench with a smoke between his fingers, taking a drag slowly as he stared at the water of the lake. He had a brief talk with Jeremy or whatever his name was, and the therapist agreed to let him go cool off as long as he returned soon. Yeah, right.

It was already dim when he left the cabin, and now the stars were beginning to peer out of the darkness, wondering if it was safe to come out of hiding from the harshness of day and those who inhabited it. Zayn sure wished it was.

It was never safe, not at the camp, not in his house, not in the world. Zayn wasn’t scared like the stars though. He was more of a cloud, hanging above those around him, not caring if it was day or night, waiting for just the right moment to rain on someone. It wasn’t that Zayn meant to upset people, but he had learned over the years that it seemed inevitable. Why run from it? He had been upsetting people long before he was even born, as his father told him many times.

Zayn groaned at the thought of his father and the reminder of what had happened back in the cabin. It was a stupid moment of weakness, and he’d let too much of him show. It didn’t matter though. He was expecting to get thrown out any day now, for his language or his refusal to participate, and then it wouldn’t matter what the other boys thought of him. He was going to miss them more than he cared to admit. He wondered if stupid Harry and Louis would ever get over themselves and admit that they were attracted to each other. He hoped that Niall would come out on the other side of this realizing that he was fine the way he was. And he prayed to the god he didn’t believe in that Liam would stop fighting so hard, that he would accept himself and stop struggling to change into something he wasn’t. He was too good of a kid to lose to the war against the bigots in the world who wanted to shape him like a lump of clay. Liam was a rock. He just didn’t see it.

“You shouldn’t smoke,” came a soft voice from behind him. Zayn turned to see Liam standing a few feet away, hands fidgeting together and feet planted on the ground.

“You shouldn’t spy,” Zayn replied evenly. Liam lifted his head with large eyes.

“O-oh, no, I wasn’t spying, I was just - ”

“I’m just messing with you,” Zayn said with a slight sigh, turning back to look at the water. He should have known it was only a matter of time before someone found him. He was kind of hoping it would be a counselor, someone whom he could curse out, and then they’d send him home. But he was too tired to yell anymore.

The lighter boy walked quietly until he was standing beside the bench where Zayn sat puffing on his cigarette. Zayn sort of hoped that the smoke would have kept the other lad away; he wasn’t in the mood for any company. Liam didn’t seem to get the message and stood silently, following Zayn’s gaze to the water. The two remained quiet for a few minutes, with only the soft chirp of crickets ringing in their ears.

Liam shifted his weight slightly, chewing his lip as he tried to think of something supportive to say. He wanted to ask Zayn about the things he had said back in the cabin during their therapy session, about being a disgrace to his family and how he was disgusting for kissing boys. Liam swallowed hard as Zayn’s voice replayed through his head. He wasn’t talking to Liam; he’d been talking to himself. And it seemed as though it wasn’t Zayn who was talking, but someone else, as if he’d been repeating words he’d heard before. But the kissing boys comment… That stuck with Li as if it had been spoken directly to him, spoken about him.

“You’re not a bad person,” Liam finally whispered. Zayn nodded.

“Okay.”

“I’m serious,” the other lad went on, his fingers folding around each other again. He perched himself on the edge of the bench next to Zayn. “You haven’t done anything near as bad as I have.” A snort escaped the nose of the darker boy, a cloud of smoke shooting out around him. Liam, the prince of perfect, the goody goody guru of the year, was claiming to have done something worse than him? He was about to tell Liam that running with scissors didn’t count, but then he heard a sniffle. Zayn looked up and saw Liam’s eyes shining with the threat of tears, illuminated by the reflection of the moon on the lake.

Zayn was torn between reaching out and comforting the boy or saying something stupid and insensitive about how Liam needed to stop crying all the time. He would have done the latter with anyone else, but he was growing fond of Liam and felt sorry for him.

“Liam.”

Liam didn’t look up or so much as flinch at the sound of his name.

“I killed someone.”

Zayn frowned. Clearly he had misheard.

“Liam,” Zayn repeated again.

“I did. Someone is dead because of me.”

Zayn froze, his cigarette burning out between his fingers as he tried to process the words Liam had said.

“I knew it was wrong, I knew it was wrong before anything even happened, but I didn’t care, and I was selfish, and I… I-I think I loved him and now he’s gone.” Zayn exhaled slowly as Liam began rambling.

“What happened?” Zayn asked, not sure if he really wanted the answer. Liam had killed someone? What did that even mean? Liam took a quivering breath, trying to form the words he hadn’t said since he first heard them several months ago.

“A car crash. It was my fault.” Zayn nodded, trying to understand.

“Were you driving?” he said softly.

“No. He was.”

“Were you distracting him?”

“No. I wasn’t even in the car.” Zayn furrowed his brow, Liam’s words becoming more confusing by the minute.

“I don’t understand. If you weren’t in the car, how was it-”

“Because! I kissed him!” Liam wailed, tears now flowing down his cheeks. “That was the day I kissed him, and I knew it was wrong, but I didn’t care, and I kissed him; I kissed him, it was my fault, and we were punished for it; the world is punishing him and me, and he’s fucking gone!” Liam was truly shaking now, sobs tearing through his body as he pulled at his sleeves, needing to feel himself again. “I killed him, I fucking killed him.”

Zayn’s stomach lurched and he swore he could taste vomit in the back of his throat. His chest was tightening as Liam’s cries unfolded before him. As the boy crumbled quickly beside him, it became very clear to Zayn that Liam truly did believe it was his fault that his friend was dead.

“Liam,” Zayn said gently, moving closer to the trembling boy and extending his arm over the back of the bench and around Liam. He let his hand fall to Liam’s shoulder, pulling him close and stroking his arm. Liam didn’t pull away like Zayn thought he would. He barely acknowledged the touch. This somehow only made Zayn’s heart break more for the lad.

Zayn didn’t know what to do, didn’t know what to say. For once he didn’t have something smart or clever to pipe in with. The kid that was so easy to pick on and get a rise out of was now tucked in his shell, breaking more than Zayn had ever seen anyone else do, and words were not coming to him.

Zayn threw his dead cigarette and tightened both arms around the boy, resting his cheek on top of Liam’s hair and staring out onto the lake. His fingers and hands moved up and down slowly along Liam, who curled in closer and allowed himself to be held. Zayn couldn’t help the tiny smile that pulled at his lips as he remembered the first week when Liam wouldn’t even let another man within a foot of his personal space, but now here they were, wrapped in each other as one comforted the other. Zayn’s eyes drifted upwards to see several stars slowly emerge as a cloud slid along the black silk of the sky. And even though they had both broken down in the course of the past hour or so, Zayn felt like he could breathe now with the other lad in his arms. And he swore Liam did too.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains explicit material

“Harry?” Louis whispered loudly into the darkness. He had been laying in bed for what felt like hours, unable to sleep, his head swimming with thoughts, particularly about the boy in the bed beneath him. 

They had turned in for the night not too long after their therapy session with Jarrod. Zayn and Liam hadn’t come back, and Louis was trying not to worry. He knew Zayn liked to sneak out at night anyway. Early one morning, Louis had caught him creeping back in, and he announced that he had been in one of the seventeen-year-old cabins with a guy named Jagger whom he had met during lunch. Maybe that’s where he was now, though that didn’t explain Liam’s whereabouts. 

It was silent as Louis strained to listen to hear if Harry was awake. He whispered the boy’s name again, slightly louder. 

“Yeah?” Harry answered, and Louis’ stomach jumped. Louis didn’t say anything for a few moments, trying to work up the nerve to speak again. 

“Are... are you really leaving?” It was Harry’s turn to be silent. There was something in Louis’ breathy voice that made Harry feel sad, and he almost didn’t want to answer. 

“Yeah,” he finally said. 

“When?” Louis asked. 

Harry wasn’t sure. He had originally planned to leave after the commotion with Zayn, but something stopped him, a feeling he couldn’t quite describe. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he was glad that his bag was packed anyway so he would be ready for when the right moment came. 

Louis’ question still hung in the air without an answer. He sat up and leaned over the side of the bed so Harry could hear him better. He could barely make out the curly-haired silhouette in the darkness, but then he saw the porch light from outside reflecting in Harry’s eyes. It didn’t matter how much Louis told himself he shouldn’t have feelings for Harry. Whenever he saw those gorgeous chestnut brown eyes, his heart pushed his brain aside and made all the decisions for him. 

“You know, I’d miss you if you left,” Louis dared to say, his heart taking full control over his words. It was the first thing of meaning that either of the boys had said to each other since their kiss nights ago. 

Harry bit back a smile, unsure if Louis could see it. He had that thought again, the one about asking Louis to come with him. He pushed it back down. “Come here,” he whispered, settling for inviting Louis to be with him now instead of joining him in the escape. 

Louis didn’t have to think twice, scrambling down the ladder until he was next to Harry’s bunk. He stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to do next. Should he sit on the bed? Kneel beside it? His heart skipped a beat as Harry moved over and lifted up his covers. Louis tentatively slipped beneath them, feeling the heat envelop him in a warm bundle. Harry slipped an arm around Louis, pulling the lad closer until their faces were almost touching. 

“Would you really?” Harry asked, the question tickling Louis’ lips. Louis had to think for a moment, trying to figure out what Harry was referring too. He nodded quickly once he realized that the boy was talking about the last thing Louis had said. 

“Of course I would miss you,” he said softly, his hand coming up to brush Harry’s messy bed head of curls from his eyes. The thought actually made his stomach hurt, thinking about not having the beautiful boy at camp with him every day. Sure, he’d have the other boys and their friendship, but Harry was different. After all, Louis hadn’t kissed anyone else. 

“I’d miss you too,” Harry admitted. “But I’m still here for now.” His fingers tickled Louis’ side lightly, and Louis shivered. “Are you cold?” Harry scooted forward until their bare chests were touching, trying to pull his friend into a warm snuggle. 

Louis smiled. The gesture was so sweet, and he loved that Harry cared about something as personal as Louis’ comfort. “Harry,” he whispered, burying his hand in the hair at the base of Harry’s neck. 

Harry closed his eyes at the touch, leaning in until their lips were almost touching. Before Louis could register what he was doing, he closed the distance until their mouths pressed together in a kiss. It felt exactly like it had the other night, only better, more intimate and with less clothing. They were cocooned in their own little world, tucked beneath the covers of Harry’s bed, holding each other and letting their lips mingle like the fingers intertwined in Harry’s locks. 

Harry kissed back passionately, opening his mouth slightly to let his tongue slip against Louis’ bottom lip, a move that caused Louis to open his own mouth and kiss Harry deeper. Harry’s hand snaked up Louis’ back while his other hand found Louis’ hip.

Louis’ mind was spinning, like sugar being swirled by a spoon into a hot cup of tea, dissolving until it was one with the warm liquid. Louis felt his own body melting, becoming one with Harry’s as their kisses grew thirstier. He pulled lightly at Harry’s curls, earning a soft moan from the boy. Louis didn’t think the two could get any closer together, but Harry proved him wrong as he folded their legs into each other and pressed their crotches together. 

Louis yelped into the other boy’s mouth, accidentally biting his lip before pulling away. 

“Ow,” Harry murmured, his tongue flicking out over the bite. 

“Sorry,” Louis mumbled, embarrassed. He hadn’t meant to hurt his friend. He was just... startled. 

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked, and Louis knew what he really meant was, “Why’d you stop?”

Louis was glad that it was so dark in the room because he was blushing fiercely, his mind and heart still racing from the most recent contact below their waists. He felt blood rushing to his groin, settling and stiffening there, daring to tent his joggers. 

“I-I’m sorry,” he said again, unsure of what else to say. “I’m just...” He chuckled awkwardly, embarrassed at how turned on he was from some light snogging. It had really been too long since he had fooled around with anyone. He gently bumped his hardening bulge against Harry, who instantly understood. 

Harry giggled, though he quickly regretted it, not wanting Louis to think he was making fun of him. “S’alright,” he muttered lazily. “I’ve got one too.” He found Louis’ hand and brought it to his own fabric covered hard-on, relishing in the gasp that sprung from Louis’ mouth as he felt Harry’s arousal. 

Louis instinctively closed his fingers around Harry’s length, and Harry moaned softly at the feeling. Louis’ eyes widened slightly as he started to move his hand, vaguely aware that the only thing between his palm and the boy’s skin was a mere piece of fabric. He let his thumb slide into the opening of Harry’s boxers, causing Harry to shudder as he felt the pad of Louis’ fingertip stroke along a vein on his shaft. 

Harry crashed their lips together once more, kissing open-mouthed and tangling their tongues as Louis’ whole hand slipped into Harry’s boxers, grasping firmly. Harry copied him, not thinking clearly as he plunged into the other boy’s pants until he was met with Louis’ quickly growing erection. 

Soon they were stroking each other with quick jerky motions, and Louis felt himself slipping even further into the other lad beside and around him. His embarrassment had long since faded, and he was basking in the feeling of Harry’s strong but gentle touch, tugging beads of precum from the head of his dick. 

Louis brushed the tip of his finger over Harry’s slit, slicking the head of his cock as Louis felt that Harry was wet too. He shuddered with a groan, wondering what it tasted like, and he felt himself getting close. Shit, he thought to himself. Harry had been touching him for maybe five minutes, and he already felt his orgasm creeping. What was he, thirteen again? He pulled away to ask Harry to slow down, but instead all that came out from his mouth was a sinful moan that was much louder than he meant it to be. 

“Shhh!” Harry exclaimed, peering to see if Niall had heard. The last thing he needed was for them to get caught by someone, especially their roommate. He wasn’t sure if the blonde boy was a tattle tail or not, but he figured it was better not to risk their secret getting out anyway. 

Then again, maybe that was what he needed. Getting kicked out of camp would be the perfect excuse to leave, and he’d even get his cellphone back. Maybe he would talk to Louis in the morning about “accidentally” getting caught in a kiss or something. Perhaps then he could ask his crush to leave with him. 

“Harry,” Louis breathed, pulling Harry from his thoughts as Louis pulled at Harry’s tight skin. 

“Yeah, babe,” Harry murmured back, not faltering his pace between Louis’ legs. 

“Fuck, Harry, I’m gonna-“

Harry quickly caught Louis’ mouth with his own, swallowing the older boy’s moans as he vibrated and erupted over Harry’s fingers. 

Louis broke their kiss as he came to, cheeks feeling firey again as self consciousness took over him. 

“I’m sorry,” he croaked, voice gravelly as he tried to apologize for cumming so fast. “I didn’t-“ 

He was interrupted by a jolt of Harry’s body and a sharp moan, and soon he felt the other lad pulsing in his palm as Harry’s orgasm ripped through him, landing in hot streaks on the back of Louis’ hand. 

“Shit,” Harry wheezed, leaning in to kiss Louis in between their gasps for breath. “I haven’t felt that good in forever.”

Louis moaned against Harry’s lips before separating and nodding slightly. “Me too,” he whispered. 

~

When Zayn awoke in the morning, his back was hurting, and he felt like he had a huge weight on his chest. He opened his eyes to see that his instincts were true. Liam was asleep on top of him, his head resting against Zayn’s heart. 

They were outside, still on the bench by the lake from the night before. Zayn couldn’t remember when they had switched into this position or when they had fallen asleep. He didn’t know what time it was or if their absence had already been missed at morning cabin check. One thing he did know: Liam was most likely not going to be happy when he realized that the two had spent the night cuddled up away from their assigned bunks. 

“Liam,” Zayn said softly, running his fingers along Liam’s back. He remembered suddenly that that was how he had gotten Liam to calm down and how the two had fallen asleep, with Zayn’s hand lightly pressing reassurance into Liam’s shaking body. “Li,” he tried again, and the boy shifted with a soft groggy moan. 

Liam could feel pounding in his ear, and he was afraid that his head would throb harder if he opened his eyes. He realized with a jolt that the pulsing wasn’t pain in his head; it was a heartbeat that wasn’t his. He sat up quickly with a yelp, trying to catch his balance as he realized that he wasn’t in his bed and that there was nowhere to move from where he had been curled in Zayn’s lap. 

Zayn laughed lightly, holding onto Liam’s back so he didn’t fall. “You’re alright,” he murmured, and Liam relaxed slightly, the other lad’s morning voice settling around him like a warm blanket. “You okay?” Zayn asked lowly a moment later, partially referring to the boy’s tearful confession the night before, and partly wondering if Liam was alright with the two of them sharing the same space like this. He was curious as to whether or not Liam would freak out when it registered that they had practically snuggled all night. 

Liam was still sleepy, and he didn’t feel the normal overwhelming desire to put distance between himself and his friend. He was actually calm for the first time in... he didn’t know how long. His mind wasn’t desperately trying to suppress his impure thoughts, his chest wasn’t achingly clenching with each breath, and his body wasn’t in its usual tense form. 

“Yeah,” he said slowly. “I think so. Are you?” He looked down shyly, pulling his eyes away from the darker lad. “Sorry for sleeping on you,” he mumbled. He wondered briefly if he should get off of the older boy’s lap, but Zayn’s hand felt nice against his back, steadying in a world where Liam had been feeling so lost lately. 

Zayn chuckled. “It’s okay. I actually slept great,” and it was true. Aside from the pain that was growing in his back, he’d actually had the best night’s sleep he’d gotten since he arrived at camp. 

“Me too,” Liam agreed with a nod. “I haven’t slept like that in weeks.” He fell silent again, shame filling his chest and cheeks. “I’m sorry for last night. I didn’t mean to explode and let everything out like that.” 

Zayn pinched his lips into a line, remembering his own outburst in the cabin. “Trust me,” he said, “I know exactly what you mean. You don’t have to be sorry.”

Liam smiled down at Zayn, feeling a bit better. As much as it hurt, it was nice to finally tell someone his secret that had been weighing on him for months. Zayn was probably the last person on earth that Liam thought he would have admitted the truth to, but thankfully, Zayn surprised him and had lent him a shoulder to cry on. Between this and their impromptu sleepover, Zayn was beginning to grow on Liam, and after his emotional letter reading in therapy, Zayn was starting to seem more like a real person with feelings instead of just a flippant closed off rebel. 

“We better get back to the cabin,” Liam suddenly realized. “Before-“

“Mr. Payne!” 

Liam gasped as he heard his name being called from a few yards behind the bench. He quickly stood and straightened his clothes, ruffled slightly from sleep. 

“Yes, ma’am,” he responded to the counselor, Clarissa. 

“Why are you out of your cabin before morning check in?” she demanded. Liam wrung his fingers slightly, unsure of how to respond. He had never broken the rules in his life, so he had no idea what to do or say when getting caught. 

Zayn sat up slowly, coming into view of Clarissa, who quickly made the connection. 

“Mr. Malik,” she addressed sternly. “You boys have some explaining to do.” 

Liam nervously glanced at Zayn who was much calmer than the other boy. He briefly wondered if Zayn had gotten caught after spending the night with another boy before.

“We just fell asleep out here,” Zayn provided matter-of-factly. “That’s it. Nothing happened.” Clarissa returned her gaze to Liam, whose eyes were wide in fear. 

“Mr. Payne?” she prompted. Liam nodded weakly. 

“I swear,” he squeaked, wishing he sounded more confident. “I would never...” 

Clarissa’s scrunched face relaxed slightly. “I know you wouldn’t,” she said, and Liam’s mouth fell open in a bit of shock. “I know you’re committed to the program here and getting yourself on the right track. I’m sorry that Mr. Malik tried to derail you.”

Zayn scoffed. “Hey, he followed me out here! I didn’t try to derail anybody.”

“Still,” Clarissa went on, seeming to ignore Zayn’s protest. “You two must deal with the consequences of your choices. Meal detention. For three days.” 

“Three days?!” Liam shrieked. 

“One for being out of your cabin unsupervised, and two for physical contact.” Liam gulped, wondering how much the woman had seen when he was wrapped up in Zayn. “Just so you know, Mr. Malik,” Clarissa continued. “If it was any other boy you’d been caught with, you’d be done here.”

Zayn rolled his eyes. “Guess I’ll pick a different boy next time,” he muttered under his breath. Liam felt a twinge of pain in his chest, and he wasn’t quite sure why. Did Zayn not like being with him?

“What was that, Mr. Malik?”

Zayn huffed, deciding not to risk further annoying the counselor, for Liam’s sake, at least. Zayn knew the boy probably wouldn’t be able to handle more punishment. “I said, ‘Meal detention will be just fine.’” And it was. He didn’t give a shit where he ate. Besides, he already had meal detention for the rest of the week for a laundry list of reasons. He decided not to tell Clarissa this though. 

Clarissa seemed satisfied with this answer. “Both of you, back to your cabin. Now.” Liam scurried away quickly before the woman decided to punish him further. Zayn flashed Clarissa a sarcastic smile before trudging behind the boy, his hands stuffed in his pockets. Once his back was towards her, his mouth turned up into a real smile. It would just be him and Liam for all three meals for three whole days. He liked the thought of that.


	12. Chapter 12

Zayn caught up with Liam on the way back to their cabin. “You okay?” he asked for the second time that morning. The words felt weird in his mouth now that he was more awake. He wasn’t used to caring about someone else’s feelings so much. 

Liam shrugged. He didn’t know how he was doing. It was his first time getting in trouble, and it was an experience he didn’t wish to repeat. He prayed that Clarissa wouldn’t call his parents. He didn’t need them to know that he had spent the night outside with a boy, even if nothing happened. 

Not that they would have been angry or anything. Camp was Liam’s idea after all, and he may have fibbed to his parents about what kind of camp it was. They were worried about him after his friend died, and this was the first time he had shown an interest in anything in months. They let him go without a fuss, hoping that he would make new friends and start to come out of the depression he had fallen into. 

“At least we didn’t get in trouble for missing last night’s cabin check,” Zayn went on, keeping an even pace with the other boy. “I think Kenny was in charge last night. He probably didn’t even check on our bunk.” Kenny was a young counselor who had previously attended the camp, but Zayn knew he was still as gay as anything. He didn’t take the program seriously and just needed a job for the summer. Zayn liked him and often went to him for favors, including help with sneaking prohibited items into his cabin. 

Liam huffed, slightly annoyed that Zayn seemed so chipper. He knew that the darker lad didn’t see getting in trouble as a big deal, but Liam did. It was a huge deal for him. 

“Maybe we could do it again some time,” Zayn half joked with a chuckle. 

Liam stopped short. “Have you gone mad?” he asked as Zayn halted beside him. “Something like this can never happen again! We broke, like, five different rules, and we got caught! Do you know how bad that is? This could seriously hurt my progress here!”

Zayn rolled his eyes. “Yeah, mine too.” Liam frowned at him. 

“I’m serious,” he said, turning away from Zayn and starting to walk again. “Just. Stop talking.” Liam was slightly shocked that the command came out of his mouth. He didn’t usually stand up for himself or tell others what to do. He wondered if he should take it back. 

“On the contrary,” Zayn began, dragging his feet behind Liam and ignoring his friend’s request. “I’d say last night was the biggest step you’ve made in the right direction.”

It was Liam’s turn to roll his eyes. “What, because I let you hold me?” A blush started to creep onto his face. Of course Zayn thought that physical contact was a step in the “right direction.” Maybe Clarissa was right. Zayn probably was trying to derail Liam’s progress. 

“No,” Zayn began, trying to ignore the jump in his stomach as Liam reminded him how they spent the night pressed against each other. “You opened up to someone.” 

Liam swallowed harshly. He wished Zayn would forget about everything that he had said the night before. Liam even told him earlier that he didn’t mean for it to happen. It was a secret he had been planning on keeping forever, like a scar hidden under his shirt that he’d never show, but he was careless with his emotions and practically stripped himself bare in front of the other kid. Then again, he remembered, Zayn had too, and that was in front of everybody. 

“So did you,” Liam said, feeling somewhat proud that he had a comeback. 

Zayn clenched his jaw, the taste of the previous evening burning the back of his throat. His facade as the tough bad boy who didn’t give a shit about what anyone thought was ripped from him like clothes being torn in a fight, only the fight was with himself and his inner thoughts, words that had been spit at him too many times to count. 

He wondered if the other boys would say anything. What he really hoped is that they would just forget it. Jarrod wouldn’t though; Zayn knew that much. The sixteen-year-old’s breakdown was going right in his chart, he just knew it. He’d probably have extra counseling tacked onto his schedule, more workbook assignments, maybe even a meeting with the priest. 

Zayn groaned to himself, suddenly irritated at Liam for reminding him of everything. “You’re right,” he muttered, shoving his hands further into his pockets. “Let’s not talk.”

And so the two walked in silence. 

~

It took Niall a moment to process what had woken him. It wasn’t a counselor knocking on the door for a wake up call and cabin check. It wasn’t the tweeting of birds who had built a nest out on the porch, although that was probably one of his favorite sounds to wake up to. It reminded him of home, where similar birds had settled in a tree near his window. He remembered being woken every morning in the spring by the sound of hungry babies chirping with delight as their mum returned with breakfast, and then Niall would go down to see what his own mother had cooked up for him. He missed her. 

Niall suddenly realized that it was voices that had pulled him from his sleep; Louis and Harry were softly chattering across the room, although not soft enough to keep Niall sleeping. He didn’t mind though. His back was to them, and his eyes were still closed, so he thought he would try to get a few more minutes of rest. 

“I don’t understand,” Niall heard Harry say, though he wasn’t trying to listen. “Why not?”

“Because,” Louis replied with a sigh. “Camp and this program are important to me.” Niall wondered what they were talking about, but he knew it was impolite to eavesdrop. He really couldn’t help it though. They were not keeping their voices down. 

“But why?” Harry repeated. “Why do you need to be here? Why are you so determined to fight who you really are?” Niall didn’t think this was a fair accusation. He didn’t think they were fighting who they were, or at least, Niall knew he wasn’t. He was just going with the flow, seeing what would happen. He didn’t hate that he liked boys, not really. He just knew how hard gay people have it in the world, and if there was a way to make his life easier, he figured he might as well look into it. If it didn’t work, he wouldn’t fight it. Maybe Louis felt the same way. 

“Because,” Louis said again, and for a moment, Niall thought that’s all he was going to say on the matter. A few moments later, Louis continued, though he was a bit quieter, as if his mood had fallen. “Ever since my dad left, I’ve been reevaluating my role in our household. The girls need a strong male role model to look up to every day, and they need that to be me.” 

Niall could understand this. He was so glad that he had both a dad and an older brother that he could turn to for advice about the world. Louis must have wanted the same for his sisters, but Niall wasn’t quite sure how that related to camp. Wasn’t it difficult to be there for his sisters if he was here instead?

Harry must have had a similar thought. “What does being a good role model have to do with this program?” he wondered. 

“Because,” Louis iterated for the third time. “Good role models are not gay.” 

There was silence after that. Niall definitely disagreed with this. Being gay and being someone worthy of looking up to were not mutually exclusive. In fact, Niall’s football coach Rory was gay. Niall looked up to him very much. Rory was also a family friend, and he had been there for Niall to help him with so many things, from improving his dribble to completing his homework to sorting through his feelings for guys. Rory was an awesome role model, same sex feelings and all. 

“Louis,” Harry breathed in a voice that Niall almost couldn’t hear. “How could you say that? You think that just because we fancy each other, someone couldn’t look up to us?”

Niall’s eyes shot open at that. They fancied each other? Since when? Harry stated it as if it was a fact that wasn’t very new to them. They had only been at camp for a couple of weeks, and Niall was with them almost constantly. When did they have time to form feelings and confess them to each other? Zayn was right, he thought to himself, remembering how the lad had told him to pay attention and how Louis would be the first to fall for someone. Although, maybe Harry fell first. 

Niall rolled over so he was facing the boys’ bunk, deciding that it wasn’t fair for him to keep his presence and awake state a secret any longer. He nearly choked when he saw them. 

Both Harry and Louis were in Harry’s bed, horizontal and sharing a blanket. Harry had his head propped up in his hand with his elbow on the pillow, and he was studying Louis very hard. Louis had his back to Niall so that he was facing Harry, and Niall could see that Louis’ hand was wrapped around the back of Harry’s neck, disappeared in his curls. Louis dropped it with a sigh. Niall decided to speak before his friends said anything else. 

“Uh, morning lads,” he said awkwardly. The two boys jumped as Harry’s eyes flew up to Niall, and Louis fell backwards off the bed, pulling their blankets with him. Niall winced. “Sorry,” he murmured as Louis sat up. 

“Niall,” Louis acknowledged with a slight laugh to cover up his embarrassment. “Didn’t know you were up.” Louis stood and returned the blankets to Harry’s bed, though he did not resume his position next to him. 

“Sorry,” Niall said again, a look of puzzlement still on his face. “Did you guys sleep together?”

Louis’ eyes widened in panic. “No!” he blurted out quickly. “We were just talking last night, and I fell asleep!” 

“That’s what I meant,” Niall said, eyebrows furrowing in further confusion. What had Louis thought he meant?

“Oh,” Louis said, shrinking slightly. “Then yeah, we, uh...” He coughed a couple of times. “We slept together.”

Niall’s eyes returned to Harry, who had his own gaze fixated on Louis, watching as he stumbled through his words. “Okay...” Niall said slowly, debating if he should ask more questions. 

Before he could, the front door swung open to reveal Liam and Zayn. Liam hurried to his dresser without making eye contact with anyone, opening a drawer and carefully selecting an outfit for the day. Zayn walked over to Liam’s bed and flopped onto it like it was his. 

“Morning, mates,” he said casually, as if he didn’t just walk in with another lad after spending the night away from the cabin. He folded his arms behind his head and looked at Louis, who was still standing next to Harry’s bed awkwardly with a fresh touch of pink on his cheeks. “You good, Lou?” he asked with raised eyebrows. 

Louis nodded too quickly, and squeaked out a, “Yes!” He took a moment to gather himself before turning the question back around on Zayn. “Are you?” 

Zayn bit the inside of his cheek, trying to swallow the rage that was slowly building. He wanted to snap at Louis for asking, threaten them all to not bring up the night before or his weak moment ever again. He decided against it, not wanting to cause a scene. “Yesss,” he hissed pointedly. “I’m great. Never better. Had a lovely night.”

Liam scoffed, catching the attention of the others. 

“Liam?” Harry asked. “Are you alright?” The boy had spent the entire night somewhere else, and the three remaining bunk mates were somewhat shocked that he had seemingly broken a rule. Or maybe he was in the infirmary, Niall thought, which also supported Harry’s question. 

“I’m fine,” Liam said evenly. He turned back to others, noticing Zayn sprawled out on his bed. When was the boy going to learn to respect his things? Liam opened his mouth to say something about it but decided against it. “I’m going to shower.”

“Have fun!” Zayn quipped, trying to return to his cheeky self. 

“Shut up,” Liam muttered with a huff. He grabbed his shower caddy and headed out the back door. 

“Wow,” Louis said after a few seconds of quiet. “Never thought I’d hear Liam say something like, ‘shut up.’ What happened last night?”

Zayn smirked smugly, letting the others think that maybe more had occurred than an accidental cuddle. “Oh, nothing,” he said casually, and it was sort of the truth. “Nothing at all.”


	13. Chapter 13

“Are you feeling better, Mr. Malik?” Dr. Levi asked. It was Zayn’s first therapy session in days, having faked being sick for a while to avoid going. Sometimes he grew tired of sneaking around to skip. He thought it was about time that he had some excused absences, and the idiot counselors were dumb enough to believe that he had fallen ill. However, he was “better” now and was sitting in front of Dr. Levi, dreading what she was going to talk to him about this time. 

“Yeah,” he said dryly, slouching back on the couch. Zayn supposed it was the truth. He hadn’t bitten anyone’s head off since that night, which he figured was a good thing. The day was young though, and the staff was always walking on thin ice. 

“Good, I’m glad to hear that,” the doctor went on, flipping through Zayn’s workbook. “Listen. Zayn...” 

Zayn raised his eyebrows at the mention of his first name. None of the doctors or counselors ever called him, “Zayn.” It was always, “Mr. Malik.” Dr. Palmer was the exception to this, saying once that she wanted to more intimately relate to the boys, something that Zayn thought was a crock of shit. Dr. Levi, however, used strictly last names, until now that is. He wondered where she was going with this sense of casualty. 

“I wanted to talk to you about your letter writing activity with Jarrod the other night.” Zayn’s head fell back with a groan. 

“For fuck’s sake,” he mumbled to himself. Here it comes. He could only avoid it for so long, but there had still been a tiny part of him that had hoped Jarrod would let it slip his mind instead of telling the other therapists. 

“Jarrod told me about what your letter contained, but unfortunately, I cannot find it in your workbook.” He could feel Dr. Levi looking at him expectantly, but Zayn’s gaze was pointed upwards as his head rested on the top of the couch. 

Zayn blinked at the ceiling. “Yeah,” he said, not moving. “That’s because I didn’t actually write it down.”

“Oh, no?” Dr. Levi questioned with slight surprise. “And why’s that?” 

Zayn shrugged. He hadn’t felt like doing the activity, just like he didn’t feel like having this conversation. He could probably think of a million things he’d rather be doing. Maybe wrestling a lion over a deer carcass in the blazing sun, or even shagging a girl. “I just didn’t.” He waited for a lecture about how he needed to invest seriously in his assignments, how he’d never make something of himself if he didn’t stop messing around. He had heard it a thousand times before. He could probably lecture himself for her. 

“Well, I must say. I’m quite proud of you.” Zayn picked his head up at that. Had he heard her correctly? Nobody at this camp had ever been proud of him. Hell, nobody in his life had ever been proud of him. Surely Dr. Levi had said something else. 

“Proud of me?” he repeated dumbly. The doctor nodded. “But... why?” Zayn knew he was missing something. He racked his brain trying to remember if he had done a single thing right over the past few days. He’d attended meal detention for most meals, even though he was supposed to be sick, but that was mostly to look out for Liam. Could she be talking about that?

“Well, breakthroughs are often a very essential step in the process. Admitting that you’re not at your best and that what you’re feeling is wrong is an important step in moving forward towards finding your true self.”

Zayn scoffed. Un-fucking-believable, he thought to himself as he crossed his arms. It wasn’t a breakthrough; it was a breakdown, and he hadn’t been admitting his faults as if he wanted to change them; he was just spewing the nonsense his father had thrown at him for the past four years. 

“That is my true self,” he protested with a tight jaw. “Liking blokes and, and fucking around... that’s who I am.” Dr. Levi grimaced at Zayn’s words and gave him a look that told him not to swear again. 

“I think you’re wrong,” she told him. “I think that you are a fine young man who has lost his way a bit, but deep down inside I know you want what’s best for yourself.” Zayn huffed a sigh. 

“What’s best for me right now is to end this conversation and go have a smoke,” he muttered, gaze falling to the floor. 

“I was wondering,” Dr. Levi continued, “If you would do the assignment again and actually write down what you said the other night.”

“Absolutely not!” Zayn snapped, meeting the woman’s eyes again. “No chance in hell.” He had barely survived reliving through the words the first time. There was no way that he was going to force himself to remember them again. 

Dr. Levi held out his notebook and a pen. “I think it would do you a world of good to see the words on paper and be able to go back and refer to them.”

Zayn reluctantly took the items that were being thrust in his direction, opening to the blank page in the back that he hadn’t looked at since the other night. “Dear Zayn,” he began out loud, voice dripping with attitude. 

The doctor watched him as he scribbled, and whenever he glanced up, she seemed pleased that Zayn had actually chosen to do the assignment. 

Only, not quite. He wasn’t actually writing a letter to himself. It was a letter to the doctor, and it wasn’t so much a letter as it was a doodle. He had drawn a picture of himself with his middle fingers in the air and a shirt that read “I heart dick.” He smirked when she asked to see it, handing it over with satisfaction. 

She glanced at the picture and back at him. 

“Mr. Malik. Do you want to be done with this program?”

“Fuck!” he exclaimed throwing his hands in the air. “Yes, please! For the love of God, send me home!” 

The doctor sighed sympathetically. “I know a lot of people have given up on you, Zayn.” There she was again using his first name. He decided he didn’t like it. He didn’t like this judgmental quack trying to level with him and pretending to care about his feelings. “But I’m not going to. We have a lot of work to do, but I am going to make sure you come out of this on the other side.” Zayn snorted, standing up and retrieving a cigarette from his pocket. 

“Then I guess,” he said, placing it between his lips defiantly, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” And with that, he headed out the door. 

~

“Where’d you get the guitar?” 

Niall paused his strumming and looked up from where he sat near the bonfire at the back of the camp. They had a fire most nights, but only a few cabins were allowed there at a time. Tonight, it was his and another cabin’s turn. So far, he’d been the only one there. 

Liam glanced down at Niall from where he stood beside him, eyebrows raised as he waited for Niall to answer him. 

“It’s mine, actually,” Niall said. “It was confiscated as a ‘prohibited item’ on the first day, but Dr. Levi made arrangements for me to have it back. She thinks it could be good for me or something.” He shrugged, playing another chord. “I was thinking maybe if I brought it out here, we could get some songs going.”

“That’s cool,” Liam replied as he took a seat beside Niall. “Play something.” 

Niall began plucking a few notes until they formed a song that Liam wasn’t familiar with. 

“Are there words?” Liam spoke over the guitar. Niall nodded. 

“I’m just not much of a singer. Do you sing?” Liam shook his head quickly. 

“Definitely not,” he declared. It wasn’t that he didn’t like to sing or even that he was terrible at it. He just didn’t like being the center of attention and hated the idea of everyone listening, waiting for him to mess up. 

“We heard music,” came a voice from behind the two boys. They turned to see Harry and Louis headed towards them, walking close together. Their arms bumped against each other, and Liam couldn’t tell if it was deliberate or not. He narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out why nobody was ever worried about the No Contact rule. 

“Yeah,” Niall confirmed, still playing quietly. “We were just saying that neither of us can really sing. What about you, lads? Either of you sing?”

“A little bit,” Harry and Louis said in unison, turning to look at each other in surprise. 

“Really?” Louis asked Harry. Somehow knowing that his friend liked to sing just made him that much more attractive. Louis didn’t think that was even possible, that Harry could get more attractive, but every day it seemed like he was learning something new about the green-eyed boy that made Louis like him even more. He knew that he should be focusing on the program and his treatment, but he didn’t know how much longer he would have with the lad. Harry had said, more than once, that he was leaving soon, and Louis wanted to cherish the time they had together before he left. It was one last summer fling before Louis would straighten up, quite literally. 

The thing was, Harry didn’t know when he was leaving. Every morning he got it in his head that he would make a break for it that night, and then he’d catch Louis’ eye during group therapy and share a secret smile, or they’d accidentally-on-purpose brush hands or touch feet during lunch, and just like that, his plans of leaving would peel away, being discarded like the rind of an orange. 

“Yeah, I like to sing,” Harry said with an awkward laugh. He rubbed the side of his neck and hung his head with a sheepish grin. “Not sure if I’m any good.” 

“Well, let’s hear it,” Louis said, smiling encouragingly. Harry bit his lip, looking up at Louis. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to sing in front of anyone - he usually only sang in private - but something about the way Louis’ eyes glowed in the firelight made Harry feel brave, so he nodded once before turning to Niall. 

“Do you know Take Me to Church?” Harry asked, trying to find his confidence. Niall nodded before beginning the opening chords. Harry closed his eyes, deciding to pretend that he was alone in his bedroom. 

“My lover’s got humor, he’s the giggle at a funeral...”

Louis was curious if the boy made it a point to change the song’s pronoun to male or if it just came naturally to him. Louis couldn’t imagine being so bold as to purposefully make a song gay. He even had the habit of switching female songs when he sang them so that the pronoun fit the straight narrative. He wouldn’t want anyone to suspect anything. However, the way Harry sang, it seemed so natural to him. 

Harry’s voice broke slightly when he sang the words, “A fresh poison each week,” and Louis wondered if it was puberty or emotion that caused the crack. From what Harry had said to him about his feelings regarding camp, Louis wouldn’t be surprised if the line had hit Harry personally. 

“We were born sick, you heard them say it.” 

Louis pressed his lips together, remembering that that was how he had described himself in his letter to his sisters. “I’m the one feeling sick,” he had written, and it was true, at times. He felt sick to be who he was because he knew it was wrong. Harry and the song were right. “They,” the world, had said it to him before. 

Harry’s eyes flew open and darted to Louis as he continued singing, catching the other boy staring at him as Louis’ breath caught in his throat. Louis didn’t look away as Harry sang, “The only heaven I’ll be sent to is when I’m alone with you.” 

Louis swallowed hard, feeling the words hit his chest like tiny pennies, as if he was a fountain and Harry was making wishes upon him. He couldn’t deny it. Being alone with Harry did feel like heaven. Louis had snuck into Harry’s bed every night after the others went to sleep, and they would spend the dark hours with their limbs and dreams interwoven like the threads of the blanket they shared. Although, after what happened that first morning, Louis made it a point to return to his own bunk before any of the boys woke up. 

“I was born sick,” Harry sang, annunciating the words and sucking Louis in further, “but I love it.” Louis inhaled shakily, lost in Harry’s voice and gaze, but Harry pulled his eyes away, closing them again as he sang the chorus. 

He really did have a beautiful voice. Louis couldn’t believe that Harry didn’t know if he was good or not. He probably could sing professionally if he wanted to. Louis would be his biggest fan. 

Harry stopped singing after the chorus, and before anyone could speak, the silence was broken with a slow clap. He jumped, turning to see Zayn standing near the fire. 

“Wow, Harry,” he said around the unlit cigarette in his mouth. “You almost made me want to go to church.” He removed the smoke and held it out to the flames in front of him. 

“Erm, thanks,” Harry murmured awkwardly. Liam began shouting something about how Zayn was going to burn himself, but Louis ignored him, turning back to Harry. 

“You’re really good,” he said quietly, his hand coming to rest gently on Harry’s leg. Harry bit back a smile, his eyes falling to his lap. 

“Thanks,” he beamed back, brushing his hand against Louis’ as he brought it to his own knee. He wasn’t really sure how to take a compliment, especially not from someone he liked so much. 

“Mr. Tomlinson!” a voice bellowed, causing the two boys to startle. “Hands to yourself! And Mr. Malik, get rid of that!” Zayn rolled his eyes and tossed his fresh cigarette into the fire. Louis pulled his hand back as if he hadn’t realized that it was on Harry’s leg instead of his own. 

“Sorry!” he squeaked at the counselor, who frowned at him before turning away. Once her back was turned, Louis bumped their knees together. 

“I mean it,” he whispered, leaning in slightly. “Your voice is beautiful.” Harry smiled, bumping Louis’ knee back. 

“Not as beautiful as you,” he breathed, careful not to let the others hear. Louis tried to hide the way his mouth threatened to turn up at the corners as he felt his face growing hot at Harry’s words, or maybe it was the fire that was dancing in front of them, even though there was no music playing anymore. 

“Right then,” Liam spoke suddenly, watching as Zayn took a seat to Louis’ left. “Play something else, Niall.”

“Oo, how about Your Sex is on Fire!” Zayn exclaimed with a laugh. Liam scowled at him in annoyance. 

“Can you go one day without thinking with your penis, Zayn?” 

Zayn cackled wickedly. “Oi! Quit thinking about my dick, mate!” Liam tightened his jaw and stared straight at the fire as blood rushed to his cheeks. He hated Zayn sometimes. He really did.


	14. Chapter 14

“Okay,” Dr. Palmer said, about halfway into the group session. “Let’s do something a bit different.” The five boys sat together in her office the day after the bonfire trying to get through their last meeting of the evening. Harry, Louis, and Liam were on the couch, with Niall in an armchair and Zayn on the floor in front of Liam. Refusing to sit in a chair like the rest was his latest act of defiance, deciding that it was more comfortable on the carpet. He stared boredly at the doctor, waiting to see what she had planned for them next. 

The session had been going well so far, in Louis’ opinion. Dr. Palmer had them remember men they looked up to from the time that they were younger, and then they discussed why those men were or were not good role models. It was exactly the kind of session Louis needed, and he had taken careful notes about what made a man a good role model, something that Zayn had made fun of him for. Louis didn’t care though. 

Niall wasn’t sure how he felt about this exercise. He wanted to mention Rory and Rory’s husband Blake, but he was positive that the doctor would spin them into negative influences, and he didn’t want that. He stuck with his dad and brother, and it was decided that they were good role models because his dad had a strong marriage with his mum, and his brother was a hard worker. He hoped that the next activity would be better. 

“Let’s talk about your first kisses,” Dr. Palmer announced to the group. 

Liam’s eyes grew wide as his stomach clenched. His first kiss? How could he possibly talk about that? It was the thing that he wanted out of his head the most, the thing that had ruined his life and cost his friend his. This was the opposite of what he felt they should be talking about in therapy. They were supposed to be learning how to resist temptation, not talking about times they gave into it. 

“With boys or girls?” Harry wondered. He remembered both his first kiss with a guy friend of his and a kiss he shared with his first girlfriend. They were two very different experiences. 

“Whichever came first,” Dr. Palmer explained. “Who would like to begin? Niall?”

“Err, okay...” Niall wasn’t quite sure why the psychologist asked who wanted to go first if she was just going to volunteer someone, but he decided he didn’t mind being picked to start. “My first kiss was with a girl in my class. I think I was thirteen. I walked her home from school one day, and she just... kissed me.”

Dr. Palmer nodded, jotting things down in her notes. “Tell me more about her.”

“Umm...” Niall struggled a bit to remember the girl he spoke of. She had moved the following year, and they hadn’t kept in touch. “She was smart... got good grades, very involved in school. She was on the dance team, she tutored the younger kids...” 

“All very good qualities. Great pick,” the doctor praised. Niall laughed awkwardly. He hadn’t exactly picked her to be his first kiss. She just didn’t want to walk to her house alone, and he was being nice. If he had known she was going to kiss him, he might have gone straight home. “Was she pretty?” the woman continued. 

Niall shrugged. “I guess? She looked like all the other girls.” Zayn snorted at this, and the doctor gave him a pointed look. 

“Very good. Harry?” 

“Erm, mine was with a girl too, my girlfriend when I was in year seven.” Harry watched the doctor nod approvingly. “She was... nice? I kissed her at the movies...”

“So you initiated the kiss,” Dr. Palmer confirmed. “That’s excellent. So why did you break up?”

Harry blinked. He found this question to be rather odd. Didn’t everyone eventually break up with their girlfriend at that age? It was around that time that he had started to question his sexuality, and he didn’t feel that it was right to stay with the girl when he had feelings for boys. He figured that was not an answer he should give the therapist though. “I realized after a month or so that I didn’t like her that much,” he said with a shrug. It seemed like enough of the truth. 

Dr. Palmer said nothing as she wrote more on the page in front of her before selecting Louis to go next. 

“My first kiss was with a boy in my neighborhood. We were playing hide and seek with a few other kids, and we hid together in the shed in his backyard. He held my hand because he said he was scared of the dark, and then he kissed me.”

Harry felt a pang of jealousy slap against him as he listened to Louis talk about kissing someone else. He wanted to be the only one to kiss the blue-eyed boy in the dark. He tried to shake it off. It was probably years ago. 

“Did you kiss him back?” The doctor questioned. 

Louis nodded. “Yeah. It was nice.” He winced slightly as he swore he saw a twitch of a frown on Dr. Palmer’s face, and he wished he hadn’t used that word. “It only happened once,” he added, hoping that would maybe help the situation. He waited to see what the woman would say, but she moved on. 

“What about you, Zayn?” 

The boy scowled. “I don’t remember my first kiss,” he said, finding it rather stupid to live in the past. What was the point of remembering something that happened so long ago with someone he didn’t talk to anymore? 

“Tell us what you do remember about it,” the doctor encouraged. 

Zayn sighed. “It was with a boy. I was young. He was older than me. I can’t remember anything else.”

Dr. Palmer nodded sympathetically. “So this older boy took advantage of you,” she stated, not looking up from her notes. 

“That’s not what I said,” Zayn snapped. “I just said he was older. I probably initiated it.” Zayn hated this about the therapists. They always seemed to be making inferences and judgements about situations they weren’t fully privy too. It was annoying and ridiculous that he constantly had to correct people. 

“There’s no shame in falling under someone’s influence as a child, Zayn. What’s important is that you’re on the right track now.”

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, rolling his eyes and leaning back against the foot of the couch. His head touched Liam’s leg, who surprisingly didn’t shift away. 

“That leaves you, Liam,” the counselor spoke sweetly. Liam jumped at the mention of his name, having been tuned out during most of the other boys’ turns. He’d gotten lost in his own thoughts, trying to figure out how to get out of answering the question and talking about the first and only kiss that he’d had. He’d been praying that the couch would open up and swallow him whole before his turn came, but that hadn’t happened. 

“Um, I don’t remember mine either,” he mumbled, eyes fixed on his lap. His face felt hot at the lie, and he hoped he wasn’t being too obvious. 

“Well, was it with a boy or a girl?” Dr. Palmer asked gently. 

“I don’t know...” He felt several sets of eyes on him, and he watched as Zayn turned to look at him knowingly. Liam shot him the most threatening look he could muster, hoping to God that Zayn wouldn’t say anything. 

“How old were you?” the doctor tried. 

Sixteen, he thought to himself, though he only shrugged. 

“You can’t remember anything at all?” Liam said nothing, feeling tears burning his sinuses. 

Zayn turned quickly back to the doctor, knowing he had to do something before Liam fell apart. 

“Ay, doc, it’s past 7:45. We have to head back.” He swore he could feel Liam sigh with relief behind him. 

Dr. Palmer checked her watch. “So it is. My apologies.” She shut her notebook. “We are going to delve more into this at our next session, so remember what you told me.” 

Liam got up hurriedly, bumping into Zayn as he did. The rest were soon at their feet too, saying their goodbyes and heading towards the door. 

“Liam?” the doctor’s voice interrupted before he could get too far. “Would you mind staying a moment?” A wave of panic flashed over his face as he stopped in his tracks. His eyes flicked to meet Zayn’s, who had also stopped walking. He didn’t want the doctor to antagonize Liam anymore. The kid didn’t deserve that. 

The doctor was now looking at Zayn too, expectantly waiting for him to leave along with the others. He narrowed his eyes at her before flashing Liam a reassuring glance and following his cabin mates out the door. 

“That was something,” said Niall, once they were outside. “I haven’t thought about my first kiss in ages.”

“Me neither,” Louis admitted as they began walking to their room. Zayn hung back. 

“Are you coming, Zayn?” Harry asked. Zayn stood beside the closed door of Dr. Palmer’s office, fishing in his pockets for a lighter. 

“I’m going to wait for Liam,” he said, trying to be nonchalant. A flame danced to life as it caught the end of his cigarette in the dim evening air. 

“You care about him, don’t you?” Louis spoke, a hint of a smile on his face. 

Zayn choked out a laugh, smoke billowing around him. “No,” he stated simply. Zayn most certainly did not care about Liam. He didn’t care about anyone. He just worried about the boy sometimes and wanted to make sure he was okay. Zayn knew Liam had a lot going on in his head, and he thought that someone should keep him from spiraling into a crisis that he couldn’t get out of. That wasn’t caring, was it?

“Whatever,” Niall said with a shrug, although Louis had a smirk on his face that Zayn wished he could slap clean off. “Let’s go, lads.” The three of them turned and started towards their cabin. 

Zayn stood there for a while, puffing on his cigarette, though he wasn’t sure how long he waited. He’d had his watch confiscated as punishment for something or other, as if they didn’t want him to be able to watch his summer slowly tick away as they attempted to brainwash him hour after hour. He’d been meaning to ask Kenny to get it back for him, but it kept slipping his mind. 

Zayn’s thoughts were interrupted by the slam of a door, and he jumped, watching as Liam made a mad dash away from the doctor’s building. Zayn quickly ran after him. 

“Liam!” he called, tossing his finished smoke on the ground as he ran. He could hear the boy crying, sniffles and sobs escaping in between his steps. “Li, wait!” Liam didn’t slow down though, and Zayn had to sprint to keep up with him. 

Zayn finally caught Liam’s arm and pulled him to a stop. “Liam,” he spoke again, slightly out of breath. “What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

Liam shook his head, hiccupping as a harsh sound escaped his throat. Zayn moved until he was right in front of his friend, placing his hands lightly on Liam’s arms. “Look at me, babe, what happened?” Liam took several labored breaths, trying to calm himself, but he couldn’t find words. Zayn searched his face, eyes darting from feature to feature, trying to figure out what had gone on. 

“She, she... she made me talk about him,” Liam finally croaked weakly. “She said... she said that I needed to get over his... his death soon if I’m going to make any progress...”

Zayn felt his jaw tighten. “I am going to fucking knock her teeth in,” he shouted, letting go of Liam and turning back towards the direction of the office. 

“Zayn, no!” Liam cried, grabbing Zayn by the sleeve and tugging him back. Zayn wasn’t one to listen to someone trying to stop him when he was angry, but something in Liam’s voice made him pause. “She’s right,” Liam said, dropping his grasp on Zayn’s arm. “It’s my fault that he’s gone, but I need to deal with it.”

Zayn turned to look back at the smaller boy, whose hands were now tugging at his light brown locks. “No, Liam.” The darker lad quickly untangled Liam’s fingers from his hair and lifted his chin gently. “Listen to me. You don’t need to rush your healing. Grief is hard, and you can’t just bury it. It’s important to feel your feelings. And your friend dying is not your fault. Not even a little bit, okay? I promise.”

He swiftly pulled Liam into a hug, wrapping his arms tightly around the shaking boy as if his hold could steady his trembles. Liam didn’t pull away from the intimate clutch of his bunk mate; instead, his hands found Zayn’s shoulders, fingers tightening around them as Zayn ran circles into Liam’s back the way he did that night by the lake. 

Liam didn’t know what it was about Zayn’s touch, but it always seemed to piece him back together when he was ready to break, as if Zayn’s fingers were coated with glue, and he was tracing over the cracks in Liam’s soul. He soon found himself breathing easier as his heart slowed until it was evenly beating in time with the one pressed against his. 

The two boys eventually separated their bodies, but their hands still remained on each other. 

“Thanks,” Liam murmured shyly, their brown eyes meeting each other. Zayn offered a smile, and Liam returned it cautiously. 

“Of course.” They stayed that way for several moments, standing in the middle of camp with only the darkness to protect their grasps from prying eyes. A light breeze was rustling past them, but all they could feel was each other’s warmth. The last of Liam’s tears slipped past his cheek and settled between his lips, drawing Zayn’s attention to the boy’s mouth that was no longer emitting emotional cries. 

Before Zayn had time to think, he leaned in, as if he had been shot out of a gun and was now racing towards Liam’s face with no way to stop himself. He linked their lips, feeling the droplet hit his mouth like a burst of light in the shadows of the evening. 

Liam gasped suddenly as he felt the space between them hiss closed, and he kissed back briefly, before pulling away with a jolt and disconnecting their bodies completely. Their arms now each hung at their sides, and almost as quickly as the kiss happened, Liam lifted his right hand and collided it with a mighty smack against Zayn’s cheek. Zayn stumbled backwards at the blow, eyes drawn wide in shock as Liam’s mouth fell open in similar surprise, catching himself off guard with his action. Zayn opened his own mouth to speak, but before he could say anything, Liam took off running, leaving Zayn standing alone in a daze.


	15. Chapter 15

“You know what I miss?” Louis prompted from where he sat at the desk in the boys’ cabin. It was just him and Harry in the room, with Niall having gone off to shower and Liam and Zayn not yet back from the therapist’s office. “Me mum’s cooking.”

“Oh, me too!” Harry agreed! He was sprawled out on his bed with a book, deciding to read a bit until lights out. As much as he’d rather have been taking advantage of their time alone, he knew that a counselor would be around for cabin check soon. He guessed their kisses would have to wait until later when they were snuggled together in his bed. 

“You don’t even know my mum,” Louis teased, turning to grin at Harry. “When did you try her cooking?” Harry gave him a look like he was pretending to be annoyed. 

“I meant my own mum, you arse.” Louis snickered before turning back to the desk. He had his workbook and various papers spread out in front of him, trying to review his notes and all of the work he had done so far while at the camp. “What I wouldn’t do for a bowl of spaghetti right about now.”

“Mm, I was thinking more along the lines of a nice roast,” Louis said, thumbing through some pages. “But I’d settle for anything besides the junk they’ve been feeding us.” Harry nodded, though Louis’ back was to him. 

“They rarely give us anything good. They didn’t even let us toast marshmallows over the fire the other night!”

“Oh, I would die for a marshmallow right now,” Louis said dramatically. It was a few hours past dinner, but the boy felt like he was starving again. One thing he certainly was not getting used to at camp was the lack of snacks. The staff had them on a strict three meal schedule with very little wiggle room, and Louis was used to having constant access to the fridge when he was home. 

Harry giggled before shifting to reach into the suitcase under his bed. “Would you settle for a Twinkie?” Louis spun around in his chair to meet Harry’s eyes, which were sparkling mischievously as he held up the wrapped snack cake. 

“Where did that come from?!” the older boy demanded, shocked to find that Harry had just materialized it out of nowhere. “I haven’t had a Twinkie since they served them to us the first day here!” He got up from the desk and scurried over to Harry, plopping down next to him as his friend began opening the treat. 

“I know,” Harry said with a laugh, breaking the cake in half to share with Louis. “I kept mine and snuck it back here.” He took a bite of the piece he kept for himself. 

“And you’ve been holding out on me all this time?!” Louis mumbled cheekily around the food in his mouth. Harry chuckled with a shrug as they continued to eat their snack. 

“You know,” Louis said a few moments later as he popped the last of the sweet in his mouth. “Twinkies are a pretty ironic thing for them to give us here.” Harry cocked his head. 

“Why’s that?” he asked, crushing up the wrapper and hiding it back in his suitcase. 

“Because twinks are what they call young boyish gay guys, and that’s what this camp is full of!” Louis shrieked, grabbing his stomach as he laughed. 

Harry laughed too before adding to the metaphor. “Plus, Twinkies look like dicks, and they’re full of cream!”

Louis snorted. “Not sure what dicks you’ve been looking at, but mine definitely does not look like a Twinkie.”

”Prove it,” Harry said flirtatiously, a reckless glint in his eye. Louis stopped laughing as he began blushing in the awkward silence that filled the room. Harry reached forward to playfully tickle Louis’ side, but Louis stood quickly and headed back to the desk. 

Harry sighed to himself as he was met with Louis’ back. The two had only fooled around together once, and for some reason, it seemed to Harry that Louis didn’t want to repeat it. Whenever Harry made a cheeky joke, Louis got weirdly quiet, and if Harry tried anything while they were kissing, Louis stopped him. 

Harry was never one to force someone to go further than they wanted to, but he couldn’t help but worry why Louis always shut him down when it seemed to have gone so well the first time. The curly-haired boy wondered if he was bad at it or if he had done something wrong. He decided that maybe now was the time to ask. 

“Have you seen this?” Louis spoke before Harry could open his mouth. He turned back to Harry with a piece of paper that he had just retrieved from the folder they were given their first day. “There’s a mixer next week.” 

Harry furrowed his brow. “A mixer? With whom?”

“Apparently there’s a camp like this for girls down the road,” Louis read. It hadn’t occurred to either boy that there were girls like them trying to become straight, but Louis supposed that it made sense. Girls could be gay too, and there must be parents who weren’t happy about it or girls who chose to try and change. “Apparently we’re each getting paired with someone to take part in camp activities together.”

“Ew,” Harry exclaimed. “Like a weird arranged marriage.” He didn’t like the idea of this mixer at all. He could only imagine the types of activities they would have to do. Would they be forced to hold hands? Would they have to kiss? He made a mental note to ask Zayn about it later. His roommate was always good at giving some insight as to what to expect since he had been through it all so many times before. 

A moment later, Liam burst into the cabin. 

“Hey, Liam,” Louis said, tucking his papers back into his folder. “Where’s Zayn?” 

Liam stormed over to his dresser, angrily opening the top drawer and tearing clothes out of it. “Who cares?” The other two boys exchanged a confused glance and then watched in awkward silence as Liam threw his clothing into his suitcase. 

“What are you doing, mate?” Harry dared to question. The scene somewhat reminded him of when he had packed his own bag after a therapy session. It wasn’t quite as packed anymore; he had pulled a clean outfit out of it every day in the morning, so his bag was looking a bit empty these days. Harry would fill it again though. Eventually. He still wanted to leave. He wondered if Liam was packing for the same reason. 

“I’m switching cabins,” Liam stated matter-of-factly. “It’s been real, lads, but I have to move on.” Louis frowned, rather confused by Liam’s words. Was cabin switching even allowed? He knew there was another cabin of sixteen-year-olds that Liam could maybe swap with. Did that mean they would get a new roommate? Louis quite liked the dynamic that the five of them had built together, and he didn’t know how someone new would fit in. 

“Now?” Louis questioned. “It’s late. The other cabins are probably settled in already.” Liam paused, considering this. He honestly didn’t want to spend one more minute in the same space as Zayn, and he knew that the darker boy would be back at any minute. His friend did have a point though. 

“Stay the night, at least,” Harry said, trying to sound convincing. “You can talk to the head counselors tomorrow about switching.”

Liam huffed a sigh, kicking off his shoes. “Fine.” He walked to the light switch and flipped it off, leaving his friends in the dark, before he climbed into his bed. If he had to share a bunk with Zayn one more time, he would make sure he was asleep before he got back and out of there before Zayn woke up in the morning. 

~

“What do you mean you kissed him?”

Zayn ignored the voice in his ear that was coming from the boy he was currently wrapped around, a lad named Grayson from the cabin next to his. They stood by the wall inside one of the bathrooms, involved in what Zayn was hoping would turn into something more than just necking. He was in desperate need of a shag, a blow, a distraction, and while Grayson wasn’t necessarily his first choice, Zayn figured this was better than nothing. The two had hooked up the year prior, and it was nice to have a familiar body to fondle. 

Zayn didn’t answer the lad’s question, instead choosing to continue sucking against Grayson’s neck, careful not to leave a visible mark that would get him in trouble. He hadn’t meant to tell Grayson about his kiss with Liam, and he certainly hadn’t meant to tell him at this exact moment, but Grayson was always chattering away, and he’d asked why Zayn seemed so off. 

“I kissed Liam,” Zayn had said, not thinking clearly, instantly regretting it the second the words left his mouth. It wasn’t that he was worried that Grayson would tell or even that he’d get jealous. It was just not something Zayn was planning on telling anyone, and it definitely wasn’t the kind of thing he’d meant to season their foreplay with. 

“Liam Liam?” Grayson asked, as if to clarify who Zayn was talking about. “The nervous lad from your cabin?” His hands were lazily dragging through the hair at the back of Zayn’s head as he spoke. 

“Yeah,” Zayn replied quickly, his own hands clawing up the back of Grayson’s shirt as his lips moved to mouth at his mate’s collar bone. 

“When?” 

Zayn huffed with annoyance, his hot breath bouncing off of Grayson’s skin and hitting his own face. “Earlier,” he said, wishing the kid would shut up already. “Now would you hush?” He reached down to fiddle with Grayson’s trousers in attempts to pull them open. 

“But,” Grayson protested as Zayn kissed back up his neck. “Why?” 

“Because I can’t concentrate while you’re talking,” he growled in Grayson’s ear. He was starting to remember why the two had only fooled around once the previous summer. 

“No,” Grayson corrected, shaking his head slightly. “I mean... Why’d you kiss Liam?”

Zayn halted his lips and hands with a deep exhale, resting his forehead against the boy’s shoulder. It was a damn good question, one that Zayn didn’t have an answer to. He hadn’t meant to kiss his bunk mate; he really hadn’t. But there was something about the way Liam’s hands clung to Zayn like he was the only thing keeping him together and the way Liam’s eyes twinkled in the moonlight (or maybe it was just his tears playing tricks)... Zayn had just been drawn to him as if he had jumped off a platform and was zip lining down a cable towards the other boy at rapid speed, unable to change directions before his lips met Liam’s. 

“I don’t know,” Zayn finally replied. “Because I’m a prat, probably.” He couldn’t deny that kissing Liam was incredibly stupid. It could ruin their friendship, the trust that Liam had built in Zayn, the progress that the quieter boy had made in coming out of his shell... From the slap that had landed across Zayn’s face, it was clear that the kiss had very quickly steered things south, and not in the way Zayn’s kisses normally did with other blokes. 

“Yeah, you are,” Grayson laughed, agreeing that Zayn had been dumb. “Idiot.”

Zayn pulled his body away while shoving Grayson’s against the wall by his shoulders. “Are we doing this or not?” he asked, searching Grayson’s face to see if he was even the slightest bit interested in messing around. 

Grayson bit his lip as a grin spread across his face, his expression teasing Zayn in a way that made him want to scream with frustration. “Alright,” the boy said flirtatiously as he tugged at Zayn’s belt loops, pulling their hips together. He breathed against Zayn’s lips daringly. “If you insist.” 

Zayn hummed lowly with satisfaction but covered it up by clearing his throat. “Good,” he hissed, biting his friend’s jaw as he jammed his hand down Grayson’s pants.


End file.
